


Nothing Happens If You Just Give In

by RealLifeKatherinePlumber



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, I'll add tags as more chapters get posted, it's one of those fics where Jack is gone, maybe like a lil bit of referenced PTSD, or at least to the best of my ability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 10:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5782015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealLifeKatherinePlumber/pseuds/RealLifeKatherinePlumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Romeo, what’s going on? Where’s Jack?” Katherine asked.<br/>“Well, uh, you see Katherine, we hasn’t seen him around lately. We thought he was probably on his way to see you but it’s, uh, been a while and-”<br/>“How long?” she interrupted.<br/>“About since you left. A few weeks ago.” </p><p>In which Jack goes missing and Katherine has to decide how – and if – she should find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fic for awhile, and just decided to start posting it! 
> 
> The biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.
> 
> New chapters should be posted on Thursdays!

_Mr. Darcy Reid,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I’m writing to you from my Aunt Sarah’s house in Boston. Father insisted that after my big story I deserved a “reward.” I tried to tell him a reward would be a chocolate soufflé at Jacobi’s, but he insisted we should take this trip. I think he’s trying to keep me away from my job at the Sun and from Jack._

_Speaking of which, I hate to bother you with this, but I haven’t heard from Jack at all since I left two weeks ago. I know that I left the address for him pretty hastily – will you just make sure that he gets it so he can write me if he wants to?_

_You’re the best, Darcy._

_Your friend,_

_Katherine Pulitzer_

* * *

 

_Miss Katherine Pulitzer,_

_You’ll be happy to know that Mr. Jacobi told me he’ll have a chocolate soufflé waiting for you personally when you return to New York. I have not heard anything about your job at the Sun, but I will be sure to write you if I do. Do not worry too much – you know what they say – no news is good news!_

_I left copies of your address with several of the newsies, including David Jacobs, who seems responsible enough to get it to Jack. I hope that he writes you soon._

_Try to enjoy your trip – I know how you love your Aunt Sarah._

_Yours truly,_

_Darcy Reid_

Katherine sighed and ripped up the letter from her best friend. It came just a few hours before she and her father caught the train home from Boston. Which meant that Jack didn’t write her for the entire three weeks that she was gone. He should have known better than to think this trip had been her idea.

_Girls like you don’t fall for guys like me,_ she remembered him saying that night on the rooftop. Could he really believe that, even after all they went through? Could three weeks change everything?

Normally, Katherine loved the train. She loved the luxury of the first class cabin, the stale coffee that made her feel like a real journalist. She loved telling the attendant that she wanted a copy of every newspaper and giving them money to tip the newsboys, and she loved sitting and reading them all cover to cover.

This morning, she couldn’t even put a sugar into her coffee. She moved the spoon around the bowl, clockwise. Finally, she dropped it onto the cheap, slightly sticky table with a loud _clink!,_ catching her father’s attention.

“Did you take any of my letters while we were at Aunt Sarah’s?” she asked. It was the only possible answer. Jack had to know that she wouldn’t abandon him so quickly. He had to.

Pulitzer raised an eyebrow at his daughter. She stared back unblinkingly, waiting for an answer. Picking up the sugar spoon, he dumped some into her coffee, steadying it as the train rumbled north.

“No,” he said simply.

She sighed and slumped back in her seat, still ignoring her coffee.

“Katherine, if the boy didn’t write to you, maybe it means he’s no longer interested.”

_Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?_ She bit back the response, knowing it would only offer momentary satisfaction. She chose instead to say nothing.

She stayed silent for the rest of the train ride, only shaking her head at the waiter who asked if she wanted more coffee. She didn’t speak as they pulled up to the platform and she searched for a tall boy in a gray cap, despite knowing that he would be out selling papers somewhere. She didn’t even say anything to their family driver, Richard, when he helped her out of the carriage and let her into the house.

The Pulitzer estate was one of the oldest mansions still standing in the uptown New York neighborhood that radiated old money. Katherine loved the sturdy brick walls with the climbing ivy that her father constantly tried (and failed) to remove. Inside, she passed the open door to her father’s study before she went upstairs to her own room. The study doubled as the home’s library, and she loved spending time there while her father was at work. She first learned to type on his typewriter, before she received her own.

“Thank God!”

No one had ever described Katherine Pulitzer as quiet before, and the hours of giving her father the silent treatment had taken a lot of concentration. (Stubborn was a word used to describe her – a lot.) Now, even though she was alone, she could finally speak – even if it was just to herself.

“Come on, Katherine, you know that something must be going on. Maybe he’s going to surprise you and that’s why he didn’t write! And Darcy must have been in on it. Yep, any minute a whole barrel of newsboys are going to burst through that door. Right… now!”

The door remained closed, but Katherine noticed two envelopes on the ground underneath it. Doing her best to ignore the heinous pink rug that someone else chose for her room, she snatched the first letter.

_Dear Ace,_

She took a deep breath, finally relieved. Only one person called her Ace – it was the first nickname that she actually tolerated. Much better than Katie, the girly moniker that her cousins had chosen.

_I’m sorry I couldn’t write you at your aunt’s house. By the time your note got to me, the address had been smudged. Damn kids can take care of a hundred papes, but can’t take care of one letter._

_I miss you. I hope your father doesn’t make this trip drag on too long. It was your father’s idea, right? To make you leave right as you started to be happy? I know he’s your father, Ace, but –_

The rest of the line was scratched out, but Katherine could guess the meaning of the obscured words. He was right – it was cruel of her father to force her away from the city just as she felt like she started to belong. But he was still her family, even as much as he irritated her sometimes.

_Never mind. I don’t want to make you get all defensive. I’m sure that Pulitzer is a peach to everyone that wasn’t a part of the strike. I just wanted to let you know that I really miss you, Katherine. Come home soon. I’ll be waiting._

_Jack_

She sighed, brushing her fingers over his signature. She knew that the newsies weren’t the most responsible bunch, but this really was inexcusable. She’d been so worried, all because a few boys had lost a scrap of paper.

“Sorry, other letter,” she said, putting the envelope in her pocket. “I’ll read you later.”

It was a Wednesday, which meant that Jack was probably selling down by Miss Medda’s theater. She grabbed Jack’s letter and rushed out the door, calling out that she would be back soon.

Katherine didn’t make it to the end of her street before she was stopped. She had half-expected her father to force her back home, but instead it was a young, high pitched voice yelling her name. She turned around to see a short boy with dark hair rushing toward her.

“Hiya, Katherine!”

“Well hello, Romeo.” She fidgeted. Romeo still liked to flirt with her, but even he had to know how much she would want to see Jack right now.

“Did ya get our letter?” he asked, nervously scuffing his toe along the curb. He glanced around the street, as if he was looking for someone, then resumed staring at his shoe.

“Yes, I did, but I read Jack’s first,” Katherine replied. Romeo’s face brightened and he stopped paying attention to his foot. “I’m on my way to see him now, actually.”

“Oh, uh, when’d you last hear from Jack?”

She hadn’t looked at the date on the letter when she’d first opened it – she was too excited to have seen the familiar handwriting. Glancing at it now, her heart sank.

“It’s from three weeks ago.” Jack must have written this right after she left. Which meant that he still hadn’t written to her, even after Darcy tried to give her address out again. “Damn it.”

“I like a lady with a sailor’s mouth,” Romeo tried halfheartedly, scratching his shoe along the sidewalk again and fidgeting with his suspenders. “It’s a real unique feature.”

“Romeo.” Katherine said his name slowly, watching the scuff marks deepen on his shoe. “Where is Jack?”

“Aw, now sweetheart, do we gotta talk about him right now?”

On any other day, Katherine would have told the boy off for calling her “sweetheart.” She probably would have explained to him the importance of making eye contact while you’re having a conversation with someone. If she was feeling particularly gutsy, she might have reminded him that he only had one pair of shoes, so he shouldn’t scuff them too much. But this wasn’t a normal day, and Katherine wanted answers.

“Romeo, what’s going on? Where’s Jack?” she repeated.

“Well, uh, you see Katherine, we hasn’t seen him around lately. We thought he was probably on his way to see you but it’s, uh, been a while and-”

“How long?” she interrupted.

“About since you left. A few weeks ago.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, where have you looked?”  
> Katherine wasn’t sure if it would cheer up any of the boys, but talking about finding Jack would certainly make her feel better. She couldn’t just sit around and wait – she had to do something to push down the nervous feeling in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.
> 
> New chapters should be posted on Thursdays!

“We was sure he was with you!” Romeo stammered as Katherine turned away. “Crutchie gave him your auntie’s address and then he was gone for weeks. And you wasn’t here either, so we just figured-”

“You just figured that Jack showed up on my family vacation, and my father just welcomed him in with open arms? ‘Oh, nice to see you, Jack, here why don’t you just go ahead and join us?’ My father doesn’t even say his name, he didn’t want us in the same city, let alone the same house!”

“Well how’s I supposed to know that?” he defended, following her as she stomped toward the newsboy lodge. She knew that she would start all kinds of gossip among her neighbors – Katherine Pulitzer, skirts hitched up, traveling with a newsboy as an escort. It was a sight she was sure they would grow used to.

“Look, all I knows is that you two start kissin’ everywhere and then the strike’s settled!” Romeo was almost running to keep up with her – he really was quite short.

It was a fair point – the other boys didn’t know what happened behind the closed doors of The World offices, or even what happened that night up on the rooftop. Right now, though, Katherine wasn’t thinking about logical arguments. There was only one thought running through her mind.

_Where could he be?_

She had an idea, but she wouldn’t let it linger. The possibility that Jack had packed up and left for Santa Fe would tear her to pieces.

She didn’t even think before she told Jack she would go with him on the day the strike had been settled. It was just instinctual that if he was going to leave, she would too. Remembering the whistles and yells when he kissed her still made her blush, but remembering the kiss itself was even worse for her complexion. How she tried to be gentle, to avoid the bruises on his face but he kept pulling her closer. How she knocked his cap off while running her hands through his hair, and he didn’t care. How she completely forgot that her father was watching, and only felt his hands on her back and his lips on hers.

_He couldn’t just leave after kissing me like that, right?_

She shook her head, and forced herself to listen to Romeo. There were a million places that Jack could be, safe and in New York. She knew that shouldn’t panic, but she still had a bad feeling in her stomach. Something felt wrong.

“Ya know he’s done this before where he disappears for a few weeks. The last time it was cause he was in the Refuge, but, uh, the time before that he was with this girl – uh, never mind,” Romeo finished quickly. “The point is that you should calm down!”

“So he’s either being beaten somewhere or he’s stepping out on me, that’s what you’re suggesting to calm me down?”

“Well when you put it that way…”

“When I put it that way it sounds awful!” she said. “Because the fact that _your friend_ is _missing_ is awful. Why didn’t you write me at my aunt’s house? I could have come back sooner!”

They were almost at the Newsboys Lodge at this point, and Katherine was suddenly grateful for the long journey home from Boston. Just a few hours earlier and the boarding house would have been empty; the newsies still shouting headlines on street corners.

“Did you wait for me every night while I was gone?” Katherine asked, realizing how far her home was from the boys’ selling spots.

“Not me, mostly Race or Specs. Everyone but Crutchie, since his leg ain’t the best, but he still ain’t happy about it.”

“That’s good,” she murmured, knowing that Jack wouldn’t have wanted Crutchie to limp all the way uptown.

The Newsboys Lodge was a ramshackle old building, brick and worn with a creaky wooden door. It wasn’t enough space for all of the Newsies, but it was filled to capacity with as many as it could hold. Jack was the only boy who chose to stay away from the Lodge, longing for fresh air and a view of the stars instead.

The boys sat in the area that doubled as a dining hall and a living room, clustered around a dying fire, the only source of light in the room. It flickered off the paint-peeled walls, which time had turned from a sunny yellow to dull gray. There were some wooden chairs and even a couch, but many of the boys stretched out on the floor or on rotting wooden pallets.

Katherine could see a few, including Crutchie, soaking their feet in lukewarm water, trying to ward off the soreness from a hard day’s work. Romeo bounded into the room and took a seat on the floor.

“Look who’s back, guys!”

The boys turned toward her, eyes hopeful, looking for Jack. Instead, they were hit with the view of a small girl in a blue dress. Almost everyone sunk backwards and she could feel the disappointment in the air.

“Hey, Miss Katherine,” Crutchie said, trying to get up from his spot on the threadbare couch. “It’s been awhile. Uh, not that I’m complaining. It’s just that uh, well-”

“It has been awhile,” she said gently, trying to put the boy at ease. The newsies had to be worried, but the last thing she wanted was for them to panic. “And you know that you should just call me Katherine. Or I’ll start calling you Mr. Crutchie.”

That got a wry smile from him, and a small chuckle from a few of the boys. The group was usually loud and energetic, but now the room was full of blank stares and silence. The last time she’d seen them this upset, Crutchie had been sent to the Refuge and they were nursing injuries, inflicted upon them by her father’s thugs. Unfortunately, this time she didn’t have a front page headline to cheer them up.

_What would Jack do?_

It was a useless thought – if she tried to emulate Jack, she would just look like more of a pampered rich girl than she already did. She needed Davey to be here – he would know what to say to cheer up the boys without creating resentment. But he was surely at home with his parents and Les.

“So, where have you looked?”

She wasn’t sure if it would cheer up any of the boys, but talking about finding Jack would certainly make her feel better. She couldn’t just sit around and wait – she had to do something to push down the nervous feeling in her stomach.

“Well, he hasn’t turned up here or at the newspaper in weeks,” Finch said. “He’s just gone.”

“You mean you haven’t looked anywhere else?” Katherine tried to keep the disapproving tone out of her voice, but she still heard it slip in a little bit. “So he could be fine, painting in Medda’s theatre and causing us all this worry when he was right down the street?”

 _If he’s in New York, he would have written_ , a small voice in the back of her head said. _Don’t be an idiot, Katherine._

She told the voice to shut up. It wasn’t likely that Jack was relaxing in Medda’s basement, but it was certainly possible, and she was going to eliminate every possibility in New York before she considered anything else.

“We ain’t stupid,” Race defended, leaning forward. “Why would he be with Medda and not come see us?”

“Maybe Katherine’s right,” Crutchie said, sparing her from answering. “We should look around town, at his usual spots. Make sure he’s not just taking some alone time.”

“Sure, alone time,” Finch scoffed. “Jack’s never wanted to be alone in his entire life. He probably just had a bad day and took off for Santa Fe.”

The room went silent.

“Jack wouldn’t leave us,” Romeo said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “He wouldn’t leave without sayin’ goodbye.”

“We’re all thinkin’ it, I’m just the one sayin’ it,” Finch defended.

Katherine glared at him. There was a reason that none of them were saying Jack left. The thought was too painful to consider, and now that it was out in the open, they couldn’t pretend to ignore it any longer.

Fine, so Santa Fe was her first thought when Romeo said that Jack was missing. But he couldn’t leave without her, not after all he said, after all they went through together. He was a total flirt, but he was the one who insisted their relationship meant something.

_He would have at least said goodbye._

“We all know that Jack mighta gone to Santa Fe,” Specs admitted. “Still, lookin’ in New York’s worth a try, don’t ya think? It’s not like it’s out of our way. I’ll check Medda’s tomorrow. I can sell on the Bowery.”

Katherine allowed herself a small smile. The newsies had known Jack for much longer than she had. The fact that some of them thought he still could be in New York – well, that was more hope than she’d bargained for.

“There’s an art store next to The World’s offices that he likes,” Crutchie said. “I’ll ask there, see if anyone’s seen him.”

“Anyone been to the roof lately? Maybe he’s takin’ a real long nap,” Race joked. “I’ll look there.”

“Jacobi’s,” Elmer suggested. The rest of the boys started throwing out places to look – restaurants they knew Jack liked, some of his secret selling spots, the offices of the other papers.

“What about Spot Conlon?” Romeo asked. “If Jack knew he was going somewhere, he’d leave Spot in charge of the union, don’t ya think?”

“Romeo, that’s a great idea!” Katherine could have looked by herself in all of the other places they proposed, but she never would have thought to ask Spot. She gave the boy a quick hug.

“Well geez, if that’s all it was gonna take to get a hug from ya, I would have pretended Jack was missing a long time ago,” he said, blushing. “I’ll talk to Spot though. I know none of ya want to.”

No one disagreed, and within a few minutes, everyone had somewhere to check for Jack tomorrow. Though she didn’t say it, Katherine knew exactly where she was going to check. She wasn’t sure what Jack told them about his offer at The World, but if he had accepted, her father would know what was going on. He would probably know what was happening anyway – after all, he had spies on every street corner of the city.

“Oh, someone’s gotta get Les after school,” Crutchie reminded the boys. “It would usually be Romeo’s day, but he’s gonna be in Brooklyn.”

“Les went back to school?” Katherine asked, grateful for the distracting topic. “That’s great!”

“Yeah, Davey too,” Crutchie told her. There was a small grumbling from the rest of the boys, which Katherine did her best to ignore. They would have one of their leaders back soon, at least if she could help it.

“Why do you meet Les?”

“The kid loves selling papes,” Specs answered, shrugging. “Has a natural talent for it, too. We pick up a few extras for him in the mornin’ and he sells them after school. Gives him some pocket change. Can’t hurt his family either.”

The compassion that the newsboys showed for each other never ceased to inspire Katherine. Whether it was making sure that they all had a safe place to sleep or just picking up a few extra papers to make a kid happy, they’d go to any lengths for each other. And now, they were even changing their usual selling spots to look for Jack.

“That’s really sweet, boys,” she said, causing a ripple of discomfort throughout the room. “Sweet” wasn’t exactly a word the newsboys wore with pride.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Race waved her off. “Shouldn’t you be getting back uptown? Don’t ya got some fancy dinner to get to or somethin’?”

Katherine rolled her eyes. Her life wasn’t nearly as glamorous as the boys seemed to think. Even so, it was late, and she bid them all farewell, promising to meet them back at the lodge tomorrow night. Just a few steps out the door, she heard her name again.

“Hey, uh, Katherine.”

It was Crutchie, still uncomfortable with calling her by her first name alone. He reached up to adjust his cap, messing up his hair in the process.

“Look, I know that Jack wouldn’t just take off, especially without you, but someone still oughta check the train station,” he said. “Someone mighta seen him there. Just so we know for sure.”

Of course, he was right. The train station was by far the most logical place to look in New York, but Katherine had mixed feelings about going. If Jack hadn’t bought a ticket to Santa Fe, where could he be? And if he had, why didn’t he take her? The tightness in her chest grew. Something about all of this felt wrong. Jack wouldn’t leave without telling them where he was going.

Either way, she had to find out, which is why she agreed with Crutchie.

“I’ll go to the train station tomorrow,” she told him.

“Thanks,” he replied with an easy smile. There was something about the look that reminded her of Jack, and Katherine remembered where she’d seen it before: on Jack’s face, right before he was left alone to settle the strike with her father. It was a look of false confidence. “You should try not to worry though. He’s done this before, but he always comes back.”

“Thanks, Crutchie.” Katherine gave him a weak smile. She appreciated that he was trying to calm her down, but nothing would work until she had Jack in her arms, with him teasing her about worrying and being such a girl.

Tomorrow, she would have answers, but she hoped they didn’t come from her. She wanted one of the boys to tell her that Jack was avoiding her, that he was mad at her about taking the trip, that he was trying to work on his art and didn’t want to be around other people. That he decided to move to a different neighborhood, where selling papers was easier. Even that he found another girl. Anything at all, so long as he was safe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Has Jack reached out to you at all?” Katherine asked. “I’m asking because none of the boys have seen him since we left, and I know you offered him that job with the cartoon-”  
> “He did leave a letter,” Pulitzer said. Her heart soared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.
> 
> New chapters should be posted on Thursdays!

Katherine hoped to get to the offices of The World before the morning bell rung, so she could greet the newsies before they spread out in the city. But the long day of travel caught up to her, and she didn’t wake up until almost noon, when one of the maids shook her awake.  
Now, after assuring the house staff that she was absolutely fine and not ill as they expected, she was on her way downtown to her father’s office. She wore her favorite dress, the magenta fabric with the blue tie that she had worn to write about the strike, and it gave her a confident stride as she approached her father’s secretary, Hannah.

“Good afternoon, Miss Pulitzer,” Hannah greeted. “I hope you enjoyed your vacation.”

“Yeah, it was fine,” Katherine said. She didn’t want to sound ungrateful, so she added, “It was really nice to see Aunt Sarah.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” the woman replied. “Your father is in a meeting, but he should be done in a few minutes. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thank you.”

Katherine sat down and opened up the day’s newspaper.

TWO KILLED AT GENTLEMAN’S CLUB IN SCANDALOUS FIRE, the headline proclaimed, with a large picture of a burning building underneath. Definitely a good headline for the newsies.

_There’s nothing like smiling at a gruesome headline to realize how much you’ve changed in a month._

Her father’s door opened, and Katherine was surprised to see her editor from the Sun exiting the office.

“Mr. Jefferson,” she said, rising to greet him.

“Ah, Katherine, I’m glad that you’re back,” he replied, a little nervously. “Everyone at the Sun has missed you – we can’t wait to see what you’re cooking up next!”

“So you won’t be sending me back to the entertainment beat?” She couldn’t believe it. Before she published her story about the newsies strike, she wasn’t allowed to pitch an idea for the news section, let alone write one.

“Well, there are those who want you to cover more… feminine topics, of course,” he said delicately. She took a step toward him, ready to defend her position. “But I say that we need to do whatever’s best for the public, and that is most certainly having you out on the front lines, reporting the news. Come by my office as soon as you have something to show me.”

“Of- of course,” she stuttered as he left the room. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

She turned to walk into her father’s office, and he looked up, smiling at her. There weren’t very many people in the world who got to see Joseph Pulitzer smile, and those who didn’t imagined it to be creepy and unnatural.

But Katherine could see a hint of herself in her father when he grinned, and it took years off his appearance. It reminded her of warm summer days on the lawn and splashing around in the river not too far from their house. Before the paper turned her father ruthless, before Pulitzer turned his desire to money and only money.  
This wasn’t the same smile. She knew that. It looked the same on the outside and if it had been ten years ago, there would be no second thoughts. Now, though, she knew it was forced.

“So, you have your job back,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“I wasn’t ever aware I lost it,” she replied cooly, sitting down in front of his desk. “But I’m sure a three week trip after the story of a lifetime didn’t help.”

“No matter,” Pulitzer said, keeping up his cheery façade. “You’re an employed writer for the New York Sun. And, you got a raise, I might add.”

Katherine wanted to tell her father that she didn’t need him to get a job for her. That she didn’t need the money he bullied out of Mr. Jefferson. That she didn’t need his help, and she sure as hell didn’t want it. But she knew that would cause more trouble than it was worth, so she chose to simply cross her hands in her lap instead. Frankly, her job was a small thought in the back corner of her mind.

“I understand that you’re upset with me,” her father said, taking the seat next to her instead of the cushy chair behind his desk. “I know the way I reacted to the strike was not ideal for you. It’s difficult to comprehend when you are not a parent, but when your child – the person you raised – shows you that they do not need you any longer, it is not easy. I reacted poorly.”

Katherine looked at him, eyes wide. Joseph Pulitzer didn’t apologize, ever. He always claimed that mistakes were in the past, and they weren’t worth arguing over. And while he didn’t explicitly use the words, she could sense the meaning behind them.

“When your daughter forms her own opinions, well, that is quite the shock. You think you have taught her what is right, and she surprises you,” he said, choking out a rough laugh. “You stand up for what you believe in, Katherine. Yes, it is different from what I believe in, but it is admirable all the same.

“You may not be the person that I hoped you would turn out to be,” he admitted. “Some of the details are different. Those are little things, though. Wrinkles that ironed out a different way. Yet, you’re still cut from the same cloth. You have learned what I tried to teach you, in your own way.”

Katherine couldn’t remember a time where she wasn’t arguing with her father. When she was little, it was over simple stuff, like what juice they should have for breakfast. Then it was about her obsession with reading instead of playing with dolls like the other girls. And the day she’d applied for the job at The Sun – that was a day the Pulitzer household would never forget.

And yet, here he was, saying that he still loved her. Of course, he didn’t use those specific words, but she knew her father well enough to figure out what he meant. He was trying to apologize. She wasn’t ready to forgive him for everything, all of their years of arguments, but she could work on trying, starting with the strike.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For doing your best to understand.”

He gave her another quick smile, and stood up, smoothing his suit, ready to check off whatever was next on his business list.

“Has Jack reached out to you at all?” she asked. Pulitzer may have had an agenda for the day, but so did she. This would likely be a dead end – her father would never do anything to encourage her relationship with Jack, but she still had to try. “I’m asking because none of the boys have seen him since we left, and I know you offered him that job with the cartoon-”

“He did leave a letter,” Pulitzer said. Katherine’s heart soared.

_I knew that he wouldn’t leave without telling us! He probably just needed some time to himself after the strike and everything. The strike was stressful, more for him than for anyone else. He’s just taking some time to himself, and he knew I would ask my father, so he left a letter._

Pulitzer opened one of the drawers of his mahogany desk and pulled out a thick piece of paper, much nicer than the thin scraps that Jack used for sketching. The letter was addressed to Mr. Joseph Pulitzer, but Katherine didn’t even notice as she ripped it open.

Dear Mr. Pulitzer,

Thank you for the offer to draw a daily cartoon for you and the editors at The World, but I must decline.

Sincerely,

Jack Kelly

Katherine looked at the measly sentence. This wasn’t a letter – it wasn’t even a memo. It offered no explanation as to why Jack wouldn’t accept the job. Was it just because he didn’t want to work directly for her father? Maybe he went to another paper.

 _Or, maybe he knew he was going to Santa Fe_ , the bothersome voice in the back of her head suggested.

Her father was watching her reaction, and Katherine focused on keeping her face blank. She knew that he didn’t approve of her friendship with Jack or any of the newsies, and showing her worry would only lead to a lecture from her father. He would try to claim that he knew this would happen, that poor boys randomly disappeared after kissing rich girls all the time, that he was just looking out for Katherine.

The fragile peace they just forged would be snapped. She wouldn’t be able to resist arguing with him, defending the newsies, making excuses for Jack’s departure, despite knowing nothing about where he’d gone.

“That’s all that you know?” Katherine asked, still working to hide her disappointment.

Pulitzer carefully placed the letter back into the drawer. Katherine knew what else was in there – important documents, records of business transactions. She wasn’t sure why Jack’s letter belonged with those papers. Maybe keeping records of people who turned down job offers was important. Even though her father owned a paper and she worked at one, she knew very little about how the business side was run.

“I don’t have any more information,” her father replied after locking the drawer. He sat down in his leather desk chair, back straight.

“If you did hear something, would you tell me?” Katherine asked.

He sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. For a moment, she thought she pushed him too far – that she upset him enough to prompt a patronizing lecture. Instead, he looked up at her with an unreadable expression. It almost looked annoyed, but like he was frustrated with himself, not her.

“If I learn anything new, I will inform you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, grinning. She knew that she should keep trying to hide her emotions, but at this point it didn’t matter. Even if she kept a straight face, her father would know that she wanted information on Jack. He would be able to lord it over her either way.

“I have an important meeting with the mayor in a few minutes,” Pultizer said, now rubbing his temples. “I will see you at home for dinner.”

Katherine almost considered giving her father a hug as she left his office. She never expected him to accept her differences, and asking him to keep an eye out for information on Jack was a complete shot in the dark, but somehow, she hit the target. Something she did convinced her father that she was worth helping.

She didn’t hug Pulitzer when she left the room, instead giving him a big smile. She had to admit, she was surprised by her father. There were old rifts between them that she thought were too big to mend. Yet, he agreed to help her – and it wasn’t just a recommendation for a job, or even acceptance of her choice to pursue a career. He was going to help her look for a boy he despised. She never would have predicted any of the conversation that just took place.

Did he have an end game? Not an obvious one. He gained nothing by helping her find Jack. Nothing more than her gratitude and happiness. Could that really be all that he wanted? A few hours ago she would have said no. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

As she walked toward her next destination, the surprise and happiness of her conversation with her father quickly turned to dread. Usually Katherine loved seeing the white-rimmed windows of the brick train station. It signaled a trip, an adventure, something new. Today, she examined every shop window and restaurant menu on 42nd street before dragging herself toward the station.

On a Thursday afternoon, the Grand Central Depot was relatively quiet. The morning trains had already departed, and none of the evening trains had arrived yet. There were only a few cargo trains at the platforms, with a few workers loading pallets.

The vacant station meant that the teller windows were all empty, except for one. Katherine walked up to the young woman sitting behind the counter.

“Do you need to buy a ticket, miss?” The woman asked. “You’ll need an adult to travel with you.”

“Oh, no, I don’t need a ticket,” Katherine assured her. “It’s just, uh, my boyfri- my frien- uh, my cousin is missing,” she made up, changing the words as she gauged the woman’s reaction. Relative was apparently the best option, because the lady’s face softened. The lie was easy to fabricate from there. “We are very worried about him, and we thought he might have traveled to see our grandparents, but they haven’t written back yet.”

“Do you have a picture?”

Katherine pulled out her article from the Sun, complete with a picture of the newsies on the front page. Jack was easy to spot – he was right in the middle of the group, fist raised.

“The tall one, right there.”

The woman peered at the photograph, squinting.

_Please, oh please God, let this be a dead end. But it shouldn’t be taking this long if she didn’t know him, right? Or maybe she’s just not sure. She probably sees a bunch of people every day. Maybe she’s just thinking. That’s good. I want her to be confident when she says-_

“He has dark hair, right? Yeah, he came in a few weeks ago.”

“Do you know where he went?” She couldn’t remember deciding to ask the question – all she could feel was a sharp ache in her heart. He left her.

“Sorry, but I don’t remember. Hopefully you’ll hear back from your grandparents soon, and he’ll be safe and sound.”

Katherine turned around and walked away, forgetting to say goodbye. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. Her feet were the only thing she could control. She tried to use her sleeve to wipe her large tears off her face, but there was still a smudge of charcoal from the last time she’d worn this dress, the day the strike had been settled. When she had promised Jack that she would always be by his side. For sure.

Seeing the black mark made her cry even harder. He’d drawn her a beautiful portrait, and he’d kissed her, and he’d made all sorts of promises that he didn’t intend to keep.

 _And here I am, the stupid girl that believed him_ , she thought, ignoring the stares of strangers on the street. _He was just a flirt and I was just another girl for him to charm and leave._

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud thumping sound, and she realized that she was stomping along the street, drawing even more stares. She ducked into an alleyway and wiped her eyes, ignoring the dark stain on her sleeve. The damp, shady wall felt cool against her back, and she closed her eyes as she tried to calm down.  
She should have listened to herself earlier – whatever instinct caused her to reject Jack at first clearly had her best interest at heart. But he kept coming back, kept trying, and she thought that meant that there was something real between the two of them. He was the one that insisted there was, that said a connection like theirs didn’t happen every day.

He lied, and he left, and now she had to tell her father that he was right, that Jack didn’t care about her any more. Pulitzer would use this against her forever – after all, if she couldn’t be certain about what was happening with one boy, how could she be in charge of her own life? Why should she get to make the decisions when she was clearly incompetent?

Katherine almost agreed with what she knew her father would say. She was incompetent – she let herself fall for him, she let herself believe in his promises, and now they were all gone.

And yet, despite everything, she missed him. She missed the lazy grin he wore when he teased her, being called “Ace” and secretly standing on her tip toes, just to be a little closer to his height. She even missed the way that the wool of his vest scratched against her cheek when the balls of her feet tired out.

Jack was gone, and he chose not to take her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Kudos/comments make a girl post faster... hint hint. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If one of us left, Jack would never stop lookin’ for us. He’d do whatever he had to, and he’d want us to do the same. I can’t believe you, of everyone here, is suggestin’ we give up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.
> 
> New chapters should be posted on Thursdays!

“Maybe he’s just gone to see his family,” Specs suggested. “Jack said his parents were in a different city, right?”  

It was just one idea that the boys had come up with after Katherine told them what she’d found. There were plenty of others - he went to visit Katherine and got lost, he didn’t have money for a ticket back, he was just trying to get away for awhile. They were all convinced Jack would be back soon.

“He lied to ya,” Crutchie said, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back tears. “Jack’s got no family. He’s got us.”

“He left all his stuff on the roof,” Race said hopefully. “He wouldn’t leave without his pencils and stuff, right?”

The more that Katherine thought about it, the more Jack’s departure made sense to her. She could see it – after a long day selling papers, the newsies finally with full stomachs and warm blankets. Maybe he went to visit her, and someone told him that she was on vacation. Everyone was happy, except for him. Sure, he was content, but the only place he would be happy was Santa Fe.

She could picture him walking to the train station, leaving everything behind, wearing his best dress shirt – the one that was still a bright blue, not faded from rough soap and dirt. It matched his eyes. Choosing to leave everything behind, convinced that he’d only made her life worse. Swearing that he was doing the best thing for everyone involved.

Katherine couldn’t deny that things had gotten more complicated since Jack burst into her private box at Medda’s, but she never wanted a simple life. She wanted to struggle and fight – it was one of the reasons she started writing for the Sun. She had been prepared to fight for him, for the both of them.

“Boys,” she said, speaking for the first time since she told them what happened. She would have left already if she wasn’t worried about them, but she wanted to make sure they were alright before heading back uptown. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Bullshit!” Romeo slammed his fist down on the table. “We can save up for our own tickets. We can follow him and make sure he’s safe!”

“We aren’t even sure where he went,” she pointed out, maintaining the monotone.

_Not to mention, if I do ever find him he won’t be safe. He’ll be looking at me through one swollen eye, for real this time._

“If one of us left, he would never stop lookin’ for us. He’d do whatever he had to, and he’d want us to do the same. I can’t believe you, of everyone here, is suggestin’ we give up!”

“No kiddin’,” Race drawled, yanking the cigar out of his mouth. “You were the one who wouldn’t leave us alone until we told you he was probably at Medda’s when he went missin’ during the strike. You’s really gonna give up now?”

“Maybe Katherine’s right,” said one of the quieter boys – Mush, she thought they called him. “Even after the strike, I barely got enough money to live on. I ain’t makin’ it to New Mexico anytime soon.”

The room exploded with sound, as everyone started to argue about what they should do next. Katherine sat quietly, feeling Romeo’s comment like a punch to the gut. Was Romeo right? Would Jack really expect her look for him when he left of his own accord? He left her, but would he still expect her to try and find him?

That was ridiculous. He left her. He chose not to write or to tell anyone where he was going. If he wanted her to find him, he would have told her somehow.

There was one high voice carrying above all of the others in the room, and Katherine spotted Les standing on a chair, trying to be a part of the conversation. Even with the boost, he was still shorter than many of the boys. He was wearing a familiar expression of frustration and disappointment, and she was reminded of herself, trying to be heard in the crowded newsroom full of men who seemed determined to ignore her. Before she even realized what she was doing, Katherine was crossing the room toward him.

“Les, what are you doing here?” she asked, pulling him down off the chair. “Shouldn’t you be home with your family?”

Katherine walked through the crowd of boys, who escalated from cursing at each other to shoving back and forth. Usually she would have distracted them with a sharp remark or a joke at their expense, but today she just passed by and into the hallway.

“I don’t wanna go home,” Les whined, sticking out his bottom lip. He sat down on the rickety wooden bench near the door. “I like it here.”

_Don’t you realize that any of the other boys would trade places with you in a second?_ The words were on her lips before she reconsidered her question.

“Why?” she asked. Most of the other boys would trade places with either of the Jacobs brother in a second – a warm bed, consistent meals. Compared to the newsies lodge, it was paradise. Of course, things had gotten better since Jack negotiated the strike deal. What were they going to do without him?

“Because I’m tired of bein’ treated like a little kid!” Les’s whining interrupted her thoughts. “Davey babies me all the time. I ain’t even allowed to leave the house by myself, after sellin’ papers for weeks, just because I’m back in school,” he complained. “It ain’t fair.”

“Well, where’s Davey now?” She didn’t notice him in the room earlier, but to be fair, it was packed with newsies.

“At home,” Les replied with a guilty look. “I might’ve, uh, snuck out.”

On any other day, Katherine would have been reminded of herself at 10, ducking out the back door to avoid setting the table before dinner. But today, she was reminded of a midnight disappearance, to a windy roof in the middle of the city. She could see the quick half-smile Jack gave her when they made their plan, the nervous way he looked at before they left. Did he know what he was going to do? Was he already planning to leave?

“I know, I know, it was wrong and I’m putting myself in danger,” Les continued, doing his best imitation of Davey.

“He’s right,” Katherine replied. She had to get out of here – everyone, everything reminded her of Jack, which made her next question easy. “The streets are dangerous, Les, and I don’t want to go out there by myself. Will you walk me home?”

Most of it was a lie, but Les puffed up his chest and squared his shoulders at the request. Katherine planned to drop him off at his house first, before proceeding home herself, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Sure!” He offered out his arm, and even though she had to bend down to take it, Katherine accepted.

“So, you love selling newspapers? Why?” She asked as they started down the street, determined to distract herself, at least for a moment.

“Well, to start with, I’m real good at it,” Les said confidently. “I ain’t sold a hundred in a day like Jack could yet, but I got to 75 last week. And there’s no rules, I like that. You can go wherever you want, as long as it’s in Manhattan of course.”

“You sold 75 newspapers _after school_?”

“Well, uh, no,” he admitted. “I missed school that day.”

“Les, you didn’t skip school, did you?”

He didn’t reply.

“You can’t do that, Les,” she said gently, trying to stay away from a disapproving tone. “School is important.”

“Sure, it’s important if ya want to be a doctor like Davey does, but all I wanna do is sell newspapers. I don’t need school for that,” Les insisted. “And since Pop went back to work, my paper money is makin’ things way better for our family. We actually had a real cake for his birthday the other night.”

“You can’t sell newspapers for the rest of your life, Les,” she told him. “When those boys get older, they’ll have to work in a factory to support their family. Like your father.”

“Nu-uh,” Les shook his head. “Dad don’t work for no factory any more. He works for the governor, doing filing and such.”

“Well, thank God you’re alive!”

Their conversation was interrupted by a shout from down the street. A lanky boy ran toward them, and stopped suddenly under a streetlight. He almost tripped on one of the stones, but caught his balance at the last minute. Looking up, he immediately glanced away.

“Oh, uh, hi, Katherine,” he said. They hadn’t seen each other since the day the strike had been settled.

“Hello, Davey,” she greeted, not sure how to ease the strange tension. “Les was just walking me home.”

He looked to Les, then back at her, and raised an eyebrow. Without detaching herself from Les’s arm, she gave him a tiny shrug.

“I’ll walk Katherine home,” he told Les. “You need to get some sleep for school tomorrow.”

“But Davey, I don’t wanna go to school,” he whined.

“Les, get inside and go to bed,” Davey said, a commanding note in his voice. His younger brother pouted, but went up the steps of a nearby townhouse, mumbling his goodbyes.

“You don’t need to walk me home,” Katherine told Davey after Les was inside. “I am alright by myself.”

“Katherine, you can’t walk the streets of New York at night without an escort. It isn’t proper.” It was clear that Davey was uncomfortable with the prospect, but he would never let her break social rules. He held out his arm, and she took it.

“So, what’s going on?” she asked, trying to be cheery. “You’re back at school, that’s good.”

“Yeah, I’m happy to be back,” he said. “Listen, Katherine, I know about Jack. I know he’s gone, and I know where he went.”

“Is he safe?” The first question tumbled out of her mouth before she even understood what Davey said. More followed quickly. “He talked to you? Or did he write? Did he say where he was going?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that,” Davey said. “But I went looking for him and I went to the train station-”

“Oh,” she replied, shoulders slumping. “I already knew that. I went by earlier today.”

“Sorry if I got your hopes up. I didn’t realize you would start looking so fast. I thought you might not know yet.”

_He must have been afraid to tell me,_ she realized as his tense posture relaxed. _But if he knew, I wonder why he didn’t tell the rest of the newsies._

She could ask, but her gut was telling her the answer was complex. There had to be a reason that both times she’d been to the newsboys lodge, only the younger Jacobs brother had been there. And honestly, after the day she’d had, Katherine wasn’t sure if she could deal with what was sure to be another sad story.

After walking in silence for awhile, Katherine finally gathered the courage to ask the one question she’d been hanging onto. The answer could tip her frustration and anger into sadness, or force her to gather her nerves and move on. It was a question she avoided asking herself all evening, one that she couldn’t ask the newsies. They were too closely tied to the situation. Davey was rational, and even though he’d only known Jack for as long as she had, she knew they had grown close. If there was anyone she trusted to answer this logically, it was him.

“Davey, do you think he’ll come back?”

He sighed, looking away from her. His expression was unreadable as he looked down the street, away from downtown Manhattan, where things were quieter and darker.

“Honestly, I can never predict what Jack is going to do,” Davey finally admitted, choking out a dark laugh. “You think he snuck you into a theatre and he knows the owner. You think he’s coming to your rally to lead it and he supports the other guy. You think he’s your friend and then he disappears and doesn’t even say goodbye.”

It wasn’t the answer Katherine was looking for – she wanted a strict yes or no. She wanted to know whether she had to try to move on, or whether she should keep hoping and waiting for Jack to return. She needed more, more decisiveness from his friends, more clues, just more information about what was happening. Indecisiveness wasn’t something she ever felt comfortable with.

“I hope he comes back,” Davey admitted as they approached her home. “But I just don’t know if he will.”

“I hope he comes back, too,” Katherine said. “More than anything. And I wish that I had more faith in him. I wish that having the relationship we had that I could say that I know what he’s going to do, but I don’t. I actually think I understand why he would go, especially now.”

“I just wish that he’d left a note or something! It’s just the polite thing to do,” Davey replied, opening the gate to her yard. “But it must have been a last minute decision, for him just to take off like that.”

“He definitely didn’t plan it,” Katherine agreed, remembering what the boys said about his lingering possessions on the rooftop. Yet, he still managed to leave a note for her father. It was probably intentional – Jack would want a fresh start in Santa Fe. “Thank you for walking me home, Davey, even though you really didn’t have to. Stay in touch, too, don’t just forget about me.”

“That would be impossible! I’ll see your name in the paper every week!” Davey smiled at her. “Goodnight, Katherine.”

“Goodnight,” she repeated, shutting her front door carefully behind her. The light was off in her father’s study, which meant he was already in bed for the night. He was such a heavy sleeper that she had no qualms about going to the kitchen for leftover food. She could prepare a three course meal with maximum pot-banging, and he wouldn’t even stir.

As she looked through the pantry for something to eat, Katherine couldn’t help herself from thinking about her question. She’d avoided it all day, but she had to be honest with herself. Did she think Jack was going to come back?

“No!” She finally said out loud, slamming the wooden cabinet shut. “No, I don’t think he’s going to come back.”

_Then if he’s gone and not coming back, why do you still feel like something bad is happening to him?_

It was the same nagging part of her brain that originally told her not to bother with Jack Kelly. Apparently, now that she’d ignored it once, those pesky thoughts were now determined to be heard.

But it was true – she still had the nervous feeling in her gut that she had before she even went to the train station. She did a great job ignoring it all evening, but it was back now – a twisting in her stomach. Everything about this made sense – Jack wanted a chance to be truly happy like everyone else, so he grabbed minimal possessions, quit his job, and moved west for a fresh start. Jack was gone. The lady at the train station confirmed it, and he left a handwritten note for her father.

All of the facts led to Jack being in Santa Fe. Every synapse in her brain was saying she should move on, let him go. But Katherine wasn’t a scientist or a mathematician – she didn’t always do what was logical, or even what her head told her to do. She was a reporter, she followed her gut, and right now, it was telling her that she had to keep looking for Jack Kelly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jack burst into her private box at Medda’s theatre, she was terrified. The only boys she’d interacted with were Darcy and Bill, and they were practically her brothers. So when a handsome, flirty boy from the wrong side of the tracks showed up, her first instinct was to send him away. But boys who were looking for a meaningless fling didn’t leave behind beautiful drawings of girls they just met. Katherine knew there was something more going on – she wasn’t just imagining their instant connection. Except that was over now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I missed last week and I'm sorry, but I did post a modern AU one-shot so y'all can't hate me so much. 
> 
> As always, the biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.
> 
> New chapters should be posted on Thursdays! (Actually, I promise.)

“Miss?” One of the house maids knocked on Katherine’s door. “Are you sure you’re alright? This is the second day that you’ve slept far too late.”

“I’m fine,” Katherine told her loudly. She had been awake for hours, but couldn’t find the motivation to get out of bed. “Please go away.”

She heard a sigh, and footsteps as the woman walked down the hallway. Katherine rolled back away from the door toward her bedside table, where she stared at scrap of paper that she hastily framed several weeks ago.

It was Jack’s drawing of her. She could see now that it was crooked, she’d pressed it into the frame too quickly to notice. No one had ever given her a gift like that. Sure, she’d gotten her share of nice dresses and fancy trinkets, but nothing ever felt this personal.

When Jack burst into her private box at Medda’s theatre, she was terrified. The only boys she’d interacted with were Darcy and Bill, and they were practically her brothers. So when a handsome, flirty boy from the wrong side of the tracks showed up, her first instinct was to send him away. But boys who were looking for a meaningless fling didn’t leave behind beautiful drawings of girls they just met. Katherine knew there was something more going on – she wasn’t just imagining their instant connection. Except that was over now.

“Miss?” The maid knocked on her door again.

“What?” Katherine whined back, exasperated. She just wanted to spend some time feeling sorry for herself, alone and quiet. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I’m sorry, miss, but a letter came for you from Miss Medda Larkin. I’ll leave it out here for you, and I’ll make sure that no one bothers you for the rest of the day.”

Katherine waited for the footsteps to fade again, before throwing back her covers and sprinting to the door.

_Stop being an idiot, he’s gone. If he wanted to write to you, he would write to you. He would not write to Medda to tell her to pass on a message. Don’t get your hopes up, Katherine._

Still, she couldn’t help sloppily ripping open the letter, reading it as fast as she could.

Miss Katherine Pulitzer,

Please visit me at my theatre at your earliest convenience.

Miss Medda Larkin

The message was vague enough that Katherine knew there was no news about Jack, but she still stayed out of bed and got dressed. Why would Medda want to see her? Her hair was a mess from tossing around in bed, but she didn’t care. She grabbed her small purse and left the house without so much as a goodbye to anyone in it.

Katherine had spent a fair amount of her Fridays on the Bowery while on the entertainment beat, and she recognized the signs of theatres getting ready for a big show. There were children selling tickets all along the street, but Medda’s theatre had a large “SOLD OUT” sign in front.

Her only real interactions with Medda were attending her performances, which she always reviewed favorably, and their carriage ride to visit Governor Roosevelt the day the strike had been settled. The trip had mostly been a silent one, as Medda fixed her makeup to meet the governor and Katherine fretted about the fate of the newsies.

The front of the theatre was locked, so Katherine turned down the next alley to find the stage door, which was propped open. She cautiously poked her head in, but couldn’t see anything. The stage was dark.

“Hello?” she called, entering the theatre. “Miss Medda?”

No one answered. Medda had to be around somewhere – after all, a door was wide open into her theatre. Katherine stood awkwardly on the stage, waiting for someone to appear. She caught sight of her and Jack’s box, and turned away, focusing instead on the scratches in the wooden floor. She knew if she looked up, she’d probably see one of his backdrops.

_I should have never come here. He’s everywhere – this might as well be his home. I don’t know how Medda stands it._

“Hey! Shoo! The show doesn’t start for a couple of hours!”

Katherine turned around to see Medda bustling up the theatre aisle. She was dressed in a bright turquoise robe, her curly hair springing up from around her head. Instead of greeting her warmly, like the girl expected, the older woman pursed her lips as she took the stairs up onto the stage.

“Oh, Katherine. It’s you,” she harrumphed. Medda crossed her arms as she stared at the girl, apparently waiting for her to say something.

“Uh, hello Miss Medda?” she greeted uncertainly. “You did send me a letter, right?”

“I did,” the woman replied, as if it were obvious.

“Then why do I feel like you aren’t pleased to see me?” Katherine asked bluntly. She self-consciously reached for her hair, remembering how she barely even brushed it before rushing to the Bowery.

“Probably because I’m not pleased to see you.” Medda sighed and uncrossed her arms. “We have some talking to do. Come here, sit down.”

Katherine followed the woman, utterly confused. Why would she be invited someplace she wasn’t wanted?

Medda led Katherine back into her dressing room, where she gestured to an empty sofa. When Katherine had last visited this room, for her review of the show, it had been bare and dull. Now, the vanity was overflowing with flowers and letters from admirers, so much that Katherine couldn’t see her own face in the large oval mirror. Medda shoved some of the vases aside so she could perch on the edge of the vanity.

“What’s this I hear about Jack leaving for Santa Fe?” Medda asked, raising an eyebrow. Katherine found herself absentmindedly wondering if that’s where Jack picked up the habit. He must have spent a lot of time here.

“He bought a ticket and left while I was on vacation a few weeks ago,” she said, trying to keep the conversation matter-of-fact.

“And he didn’t say goodbye?”

“That’s correct.”

“And he just left, without any of his stuff.”

“As far as I know.”

“And he didn’t tell anyone, at all, not one of the newsies or you or me or anyone that he was leaving.”

“Right.”

“You honestly believe that’s what happened?” Medda crossed her arms again. She kept direct eye contact with Katherine since they entered the dressing room, and now Katherine was becoming a little uncomfortable with the attention. “Really?”

“Those are the facts,” Katherine said slowly. Did Medda have the same gut feeling as her? Did she know something that proved Jack wasn’t in Santa Fe? She went for the broad approach. “He went to the train station, bought a ticket, and hasn’t been seen since. What exactly do you think happened?”

“Katherine, you know that fair wages weren’t the only thing that Jack got out of the strike,” Medda said, taking the seat next to her. “He got you, he got a family! Those boys bonded more than ever over those few days. You may be rich and spoiled, but you ain’t stupid. Can you honestly say that he left, after all that?”

Katherine let the “spoiled” comment slide, partially because she didn’t want to pick a fight with Medda and partially because she knew it was mostly true, as much as she hated to say so.

“No, I can’t,” she admitted. “And I’ve got this gut feeling that he’s not in Santa Fe, but that’s where all the evidence points. What else can I do?”

“Goodness gracious, if you get the chance you better marry that boy because you do not deserve him,” Medda told her, moving back toward the vanity.

“Marry him?!”

“You could have left that boy a letter telling him that you hated him and never wanted to see him again, and he would still be looking for you, just to make sure you were okay.”

“What am I supposed to do, Medda?” Katherine threw her arms up in the air. “Go to Santa Fe? Just start asking around to see if anyone has seen him? We don’t even know if that’s definitely where he went.”

“Figure it out,” the woman replied, enunciating each word slowly. “Surely you can do that, can’t you Miss Investigative Reporter? I’ve known Jack a long time, and I can tell you that he ain’t in Santa Fe. The only place he wants to be right now is with you and those boys, so you gotta figure out why he’s not. Now, shoo! Get out of here, I’ve got a show to prepare for.”

“Do you at least have an idea of what might have happened?” Katherine tried to catch her eye as they neared the door. “Any hints you can give me at all?”

“All I’ve got is plenty of nights spent on this stage with Jack, talking about his family,” Medda said, walking briskly across the stage. “And not just his parents, his real family, those boys. He wouldn’t just leave them. Even when he wanted to leave, during the strike, he stopped by to tell me where he was going!

“You know Jack.” She paused at the door. “You can’t honestly think he left. And even if you do, you really think he wouldn’t write to you, or me, or any of the boys? Something ain’t right here, and I don’t have the time or the resources to figure it out. But you do.”

Katherine sighed. She needed a place to start – someone to give her a small clue, some way to kick off the search. Medda didn’t have that. But it didn’t mean she was wrong.

“I’ll start looking,” she said. “But if you think of anything at all that might help-”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Medda replied with a grateful smile. “But you really do have to go now, I go on in an hour.”

Katherine waved goodbye and walked back toward the Bowery. It was good to know that she wasn’t alone – that Medda also had a feeling something was wrong with this whole situation. But it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t have anything to go on besides the voice in her head.

Katherine didn’t know what to do, where to start looking, and that scared her. She always had a plan, an idea of what to do next. Not today. Today, she didn’t even have a plan on how to get home. In fact, looking at the surrounding buildings, she realized she was lost.

“Finally, you stopped,” an out-of-breath voice said from behind her. Katherine jumped, and without thinking about it, punched the man straight in the nose.

At least, that’s what she’d been aiming for, but the boy who snuck up on her was considerably tall, and she ended up hitting his shoulder. Looking up, she was struck by a familiar head of sandy brown hair and a pair of circular glasses.

“Nice to see you too,” Darcy moaned, rubbing his new injury.

“Oh my goodness, Darcy, I am so sorry! I didn’t hear you behind me before and I didn’t know who you were and I’m all by myself and I’m sort of lost and I just thought-”

“It’s fine, Katherine,” he said, laughing and straightening his tan suit. “I’ll consider it a punishment for not coming to visit you as soon as you returned from Boston.”

She chose not to tell him that she had hardly been home since coming back from her vacation.

“I saw you walking down the Bowery and you looked really upset,” Darcy said, taking her arm and turning down another street. “Of course, I forgot that you tend to get a little oblivious when you’re thinking hard. Is there anything you want to discuss with me?”

“Jack bought a train ticket while I was gone,” she told him. “He didn’t write me or say goodbye to anyone at all, and Miss Medda told me to keep looking for him, except that the woman who sold him the ticket couldn’t remember where it was for and… I’m being horribly rude.”

Katherine didn’t care much for societal convention, but Darcy was typically a stickler for the seemingly random rules that they were expected to follow. Which is why he was currently walking on the sunny street-side of the sidewalk, instead of the cool side covered with the shadows of the tall buildings in New York.

“My apologies. Please, tell me how you’re doing. How is your family? How is the Tribune?”

“I appreciate the effort, but we both know that you don’t care about the answers to any of those questions right now,” Darcy said. “You’ve obviously got bigger problems. So, let’s talk through those, and then we can go to Jacobi’s later this week like usual and I’ll bore you with details of my charmed life.”

“Deal,” she replied, overcome with gratitude for her friend. The streets were starting to look familiar as they wound their way through the maze of banks and barbershops, bakeries and bookshops. “I’m just very overwhelmed with what I should do next about Jack.”

“You mean that you don’t know what to do, even though you don’t want to admit it,” Darcy said. Katherine sighed, now a little annoyed with his knowledge of her habits and flaws. “If he left, there’s nothing left for you to do. That was his decision. But I’m not sure if I’m the best person to try and help you-”

“’Scuse me, sir, miss, would you like to buy a paper?”

They turned toward the voice and Katherine couldn’t help but smile.

“Déjà vu,” she commented.

“I don’t know what that means, but this certainly feels familiar.” It was Crutchie, holding his last paper of the night. Darcy pulled a few coins out of his wallet and handed him a nickel. For a second, Katherine thought the newsboy was going to resist accepting the money, but he ended up slipping it into his pocket.

“Uh, Katherine, have you got anywhere to be? I was thinking maybe we could talk. Ya know, about Jack and all,” Crutchie said, adjusting his now-empty canvas bag.

“Of course we can, Crutchie,” Katherine said. Medda was trying too hard to find Jack, and she knew Darcy would be reluctant to indulge her search without any evidence. Maybe Crutchie would wind up somewhere between the two extremes – closer to her, in the middle, unsure of what to do next. Perhaps they could figure it out, together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's a day late. I'm sorry!!!! It was midterms week so my brain is goo. 
> 
> As always, the biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.
> 
> New chapters should be posted on Thursdays! I promise y'all.

Climbing up to Jack’s rooftop was possibly the worst idea that Katherine had ever been a part of. The fire escape was rickety and old, and anyone looking up from below would likely get a glimpse up her skirts. The bathroom at the newsies lodge would probably have been a better place to talk privately, and she couldn’t imagine how dirty that space would be. But Crutchie had wanted to go to the roof, and she couldn’t say no, despite the perilous climb and the painful memories that awaited them at the top.

The rooftop was trashed. A thin blanket barely hung on to one of the metal railings, where it had some how gotten twisted around so it wouldn’t blow away. Jack’s clothes were strewn across the small strip of gravel, covered in dirt and dust. His sketches were seemingly untouched, still in their tube hanging in the corner.

_Well, he did leave in a hurry_ , Katherine thought. _He was probably looking for something specific, like his ticket money or favorite pencils._

But even as she thought this, she spotted his favorite pencils sticking out of the pair of pants right in front of her. Jack’s tin of coins and crumpled bills was at the edge of the roof, untouched.

_How could he leave without his money?_

“Well, Jack left this place a mess, huh?” Crutchie said, trying to hide the fact that he was out of breath from the climb. He used the railing to lower himself onto the ground.

“Look, his money is still here.” Katherine frowned. The teller at the train station had identified Jack with hardly any prompting – she even remembered his hair color. But he couldn’t have purchased a ticket without his money.

“No way that’s all of Jack’s money,” Crutchie replied. “He’s been savin’ up for years, long as I’ve known him. He’s got more than a can full of change.”

“So you’re saying he still could have made it to Santa Fe,” she said slowly.

_Damn it, Katherine, you can’t get your hopes up every time you find something that might possibly be a clue._

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,” Crutchie said after a few seconds of silence. “All the other boys are sad or mad and I’m just confused.”

“You know you’re supposed to be mad that he left without saying goodbye, but really you’re just hurt,” Katherine found herself agreeing. “And you know that you should move on, but you feel guilty.”

“Yeah! Like I feel like we should keep lookin’, but there’s no where left to look!”

“I went to see Medda today,” she told him. “She asked me to come. And then she told me I should still go find him. Is that what I’m supposed to do? Because I have this feeling in my gut that I should be looking for him, but where do I start?”

“I don’t know,” Crutchie replied, trying to rub dirt off the handle of his crutch. He paused, then blurted, “Do ya ever think about whatcha would do without him? If we don’t find him and he never comes back, I mean.”

“Well, for me, things would go back to the way they were before the strike,” she said. “I haven’t known Jack as long as you have. Honestly, I think more about how my life would change if he _was_ here.”

“There was somethin’ I wanted to ask him, before he left,” he admitted. “See, most people dunno how Jack and I met. He’s always been like my big brother.”

“You didn’t meet selling papers?”

“We met in the Refuge,” he told her, absentmindedly reaching for his injured foot. “I didn’t have a job, or a family, or anything,” he said, eyes glazing over as he remembered the not-so-distant past. “I was sleepin’ on the streets, and one day, some men came and told me I could have a bed. I could live with other boys. So I went with them. They made it sound so nice. I decided to go, and believe me, I ain’t made a worse decision since.

“I dunno why Jack was there. He was in and out so many times while I was around, until one day when he came back and saw that I wasn’t walkin’ right anymore.” Katherine always assumed his injury was a birth defect or a very old injury, something that he always lived with. Her eyes widened at the realization of how wrong she’d been. She tried to hide her shock by covering her mouth, but Crutchie still noticed. “Yeah, my leg wasn’t always like this. When Jack saw, he helped me escape, and nothin’s been the same since.”

She knew the Refuge was an awful place from Jack’s drawings, but seeing the lifelong damage firsthand was a different story. Crutchie would never be fully able to walk again, and it took this long for the man behind it to truly pay. She clenched a fist in her skirts to try and stop her hand from shaking.

“Anyways, they got Snyder in prison now, ya know, thanks to Jack,” he said. “And the lawyers have been talkin’ to me and some of the other boys. They’s real nice, they actually want Snyder to pay for what he did. And I was thinkin’ that might be somethin’ I wanna do.”

“Crutchie, that’s wonderful!” Katherine said, reaching around his shoulder for a one-armed hug. “You would make a great lawyer.”

“Well thanks.” He blushed fire-engine red. The newsies liked to pretend otherwise, but they hadn’t been around too many girls, and they still got embarrassed at the attention. “But I ain’t got the money for school. And I can’t leave the rest of the fellas without tellin’ Jack. I don’t know if he’d ever forgive me.”

Which brought them back to the search. Where to start? And what if they weren’t successful? What would that mean for the boys, for Crutchie, for her?

Obviously Katherine wanted to find Jack for her own reasons. She missed him. She missed the soap smell that came with his clothes, ragged and old but always clean. She missed putting her hands, rough from typing and writing into his, callused from climbing up and down his fire escape.

But if there was anything that could make her want to find Jack even more, it was the story that Crutchie just told. He needed to move on with his life, find a new passion to follow, and if he needed Jack to tell him it was okay, then she was going to find him.

“Listen to me,” Katherine began. “Jack would be so proud that you wanted to do something more than sell papers. He would want you to do everything you could to try and get into law school. In fact, I’ll start helping you with some basic studies, if you want. I’m sure that Bill and Darcy will help too.”

His face lit up.

“But you also need to know that you don’t have to get Jack’s permission to move on with your life,” she said gently. “You can still be friends with the newsboys and live at the lodge, even if you’re going to law school. And hey, maybe you can even still sell papers after classes like Les does.”

“I know you’re right, but I still feel like I at least oughta tell Jack what I’m doing,” he replied. “He got me out of a rough situation and gave me all the things I ain’t had before. A bed, a family, a job. I don’t want him to think I’m not grateful.”

“Well, I guess we are going to have to find him then, so you can tell him yourself,” Katherine said, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a quick smile.

“If only we was more than just a group of kids,” he wished. “Then we could figure out where Jack bought the ticket to go. There’s gotta be records or someone had to have seen him or something.”          

“Crutchie, that’s genius!” Katherine exclaimed. “Don’t you see? We are more than just a group of kids. We have power, and it’s waiting for me right at home.”

She couldn’t believe herself. How had she not considered this already? They could easily find out Jack’s destination. Her father had promised to tell her if he heard anything, surely she could convince him to help a little bit more.

“You really think he’ll help us?” He looked at her skeptically. “No offense, Katherine, but we ain’t exactly on the best terms with your old man.”

“He probably wouldn’t help _us_ ,” she confessed. “But he might help me. I may annoy him sometimes, but I am still his daughter, and he has eyes all over the city. If I tell him what I know about Jack buying a ticket, he can definitely figure out where he went!”

“Worth a shot, I guess,” he said doubtfully. “I better get back to the Lodge before it gets too dark. Wouldn’t want the fellas to think I skipped out on them, too.”

“Have a good night, Crutchie,” Katherine said, rising to help him down the ladder.

“Night, Katherine.”

She should have followed him down straight away – it was getting dark, and she hadn’t seen her father in two days. Now, she desperately needed to talk to him. Instead, she found herself walking to the opposite edge of the roof, where a few of Jack’s rumpled belongings were.

His painting apron was still there, smudged with a few spots of acrylic from creating Medda’s backdrops. She could see the pinks and purples he’d used to form the sky in his most recent painting – the one of Santa Fe. Near the apron, she found his least favorite shirt, a button down that had once been bright, but was now dull gray after too many washes. She pushed her pinky finger through the hole in one of the elbows and sighed as the smell of charcoal and cheap soap wafted up toward her.

The tube of drawings caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. It would be a shame to leave his hard work up here, bound to be destroyed by a rainstorm or a strong gust of wind. She took the papers out of the cylinder, and what she saw took her breath away.

Drawing upon drawing of the same face: hers, smiling, a hand covering her mouth, biting her lip. Stuffed in between were other sketches, some of the Refuge, some of the view from the rooftop, even some of the newsies, but her large eyes and wide smile filled the vast majority of the pages.

“No more crying, Katherine,” she said to herself out loud, trying to ignore her wavering voice. “We have a plan, which you need to put into action. And to do that, you can’t be a helpless puddle of tears. You have to help Crutchie, which means you have to get off this rooftop and go home.”

She placed the sketches carefully in her bag and walked toward the ladder. At the last minute, she grabbed the few pieces of clothing that remained on the roof. The sudden appearance of boys clothes would probably cause the maids to talk, and it might even spread gossip throughout her neighborhood, but Katherine didn’t care. If these were her last reminders of Jack, she would gladly deal with the rumors.

Gazing around the rooftop, something still didn’t feel right. She could even picture it – it was almost like Jack was there, throwing his clothes behind him to grab an envelope full of bills, kicking his blanket in frustration as he finally left this stinking city. But Jack was neat, sometimes excessively so. His clothes were always clean, though they might be ragged, and his papers were always smooth and crisp.

It was just as easy for her to see other scenarios – Jack, laying in a sick bed, burning up from fever, too delirious to remember his own name. Jack, bruised and beaten in an alley somewhere, too weak to crawl out. Jack, hurt, in danger, calling out for her.

_Stupid, overemotional, teenage girl._ She shook her head to clear the vision. _There are so many wrong things about what just happened in my head, I don’t even know where to start._

First of all, no one thought Jack was in danger, except the tiny voice in the back of her brain that was also suggesting that he could have been abducted by beings from another planet. The idea that Jack had been kidnapped was crazy.

Second, there was absolutely no evidence that Jack wasn’t safe. Her insane exaggerations and her hunch weren’t exactly to be trusted – after all, they were what convinced her Jack liked her, when all of the evidence now said he probably didn’t care at all.

Still, she couldn’t muster up the rage that she felt walking out of the train station. She knew that she still _should_ be mad at him, but she wasn’t – at least, not to the scale she was earlier. She was worried, partly because he was gone and partly because she might actually be going insane over it. She was worried because if she didn’t find him, she would have to live the rest of her life without seeing that wry, cocky half-smile again.

Which meant that she had to try to find him. Which meant that now, she had to go talk to her father about helping to find her boyfriend, who both hated each other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I went to the train station,” she blurted. “Jack bought a ticket. I asked the teller and she told me, but she couldn’t remember where he was going. Apparently, it’s been awhile.”
> 
> Well, that isn’t what I meant to say. But it still felt as if some weight on her chest had been lifted – one that she didn’t even know was there. Now, it felt like her heart was beating too fast.

“I trust you’ve been out working on your story,” Pulitzer said in lieu of a greeting as Katherine entered his study. She missed dinner for the second time in two days, and one of the maids was preparing something to be brought up to her room. “What is it now, dock workers want better flotation devices for safety?”

“Ballet dancers want slippers that won’t give them blisters,” she joked.

_Damn it, my story. Mr. Jefferson probably expected to hear from me by now._

She put the thought aside as she shut the heavy wooden door behind her and walked the length of her father’s office. The dark paneled walls and leather furniture reminded her of the hunting lodge she’d visited once, to interview a famous actor in town. This room didn’t feel like a place of business. Katherine still had visions of when it used to be their sitting room, back when the Pulitzers actually entertained guests. Then, it had been full of white furniture and pastel curtains. But a lot of things changed after her mother died, and the home’s décor was one of the minor differences.

“Worthy subject,” Pulitzer replied as she sat down in front of his desk.

As much as her father hated it, Katherine refused to write for The World. There would be a conflict of interest in her stories, not to mention the tension that would invade her home, which is why they never talked about her work. At this point, it was so well-avoided that it felt less like an elephant in the room, and more like a small mouse.

“I am sorry for missing dinner,” she said, fiddling with the button on her sleeve. “It was important.”

“It always is.” Pulitzer leaned back in his chair, gazing around his large office.

“I don’t have an idea for my next story,” she admitted. It wasn’t what she meant to say – she wanted to talk about Jack and getting the information from the train station. She _never_ talked to her father about work unless she was pushed, hard.

“Your work is not usually a favorite conversation topic between us,” her father replied, lowering his glasses.

“I know. Honestly, I don’t know why I said that,” she said, quickly trying to backtrack. She looked down at her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I think I just needed to tell someone, and I haven’t had the chance for a substantial conversation with Bill or Darcy yet.”

“If you were not working on a story or with your friends, where have you been all this time?” His brow furrowed, and Katherine continued to focus on her hands. _Damn it._ Not only had she started the only taboo topic in the house, she opened herself up for her father’s disapproval at the same time. It was only a matter of time before he figured out -

"You were with the newsboys,” Pulitzer declared. Katherine peeked up from under her bangs. Her father’s face was cold, hard, disapproving. The exact reaction she had predicted. “Looking for that boy, no doubt.”

This is not how this was supposed to happen. She wanted to soften her father up with praise for The World, or talk about his day. Not with talk of the newsies, or her writing, or Jack – all topics that he disapproved of.

“Well, if you have to spend time with those ruffians you could at least make it useful,” he suggested. Katherine’s head snapped up.

_What?_

“A follow up piece on the strike could be a good way to ease back into news writing, and it would show your editors that you are dedicated to a topic.”

Real advice? From her father?

“Thank you,” she said softly, still shocked.

“If writing is what you are dedicated to, I am not hoping that you fail. I wish that you would choose another goal to strive for, something more ladylike, but that is not my choice to make. I will help you if I can.”

“I’m not coming to work for you,” she replied quickly. He chuckled.

“If you worked for me, you would still be on the entertainment beat. You could still be very successful there.”

Katherine’s only response was to roll her eyes. They fell into a comfortable silence as she considered his suggested story. It would be an easy piece to compose – she had been with the newsies almost every day since she returned from her trip. Showing the aftermath of winning the strike could be very informative, and maybe it would even inspire others to join unions and strike for themselves. With the added benefit of impressing her editors, as her father had said, this story seemed to be the perfect way to get back into writing.

Who would have thought that her father would help her? Or that the fragile peace forged yesterday would have held up overnight?

“I went to the train station,” she blurted. “Jack bought a ticket. I asked the teller and she told me, but she couldn’t remember where he was going. Apparently, it’s been awhile.”

_Well, that isn’t what I meant to say._ But it still felt as if some weight on her chest had been lifted – one that she didn’t even know was there. Now, it felt like her heart was beating too fast.

_What are you doing, Katherine? This isn’t what was supposed to happen. The plan was to make him like you, to decide that he would look for Jack to make you happy._

There was no use in that now. At least she didn’t mention the messy state of the rooftop. Her father would use it as overwhelming evidence to prove Jack went to Santa Fe. He would say that she didn’t need the train station records, that she could stop searching right away.

“Well, the boy always did want to travel west,” Pulitzer commented dryly.

_He doesn’t even know how much Jack wanted to leave_ , Katherine realized. _I don’t even really know how much Jack wanted to leave. The only person who does is probably Crutchie._

“There has to be records, or something right? A receipt of the ticket? We have to be able to find out where he went,” she insisted. _Screw the plan, he_ has _to help me._ Her father remained stoic. “I can’t get to them, but you can.”

Pulitzer sighed, crossing his arms.

“Please, I just want to know where he went. The boys are crushed, they’re convinced that Jack wouldn’t just leave like that. An official receipt might give them some closure. It would give them a chance to move on with their lives.”

“And you?” he asked. She must have given him a confused look, because he clarified. “You said the boys are crushed. Are you not upset as well?”

Katherine hesitated. Of course she was upset – she was disappointed and angry and betrayed, and she was going a damn good job at hiding it. Should she tell him? Would it even be possible to hold it back any longer?

“Of course I’m upset,” she finally said. Most of the time, she actively tried to hide her emotions from her father. Now, she couldn’t keep her voice from cracking. “Jack didn’t say goodbye to anyone – me or any of the newsies, even after everything. It’s just not like him.”

“Katherine,” her father began. She crossed her arms – this was the same patronizing manner in which he treated her when she told him she wanted to write. “You’ve seen some of the things I’ve done, regrettable as they may be. You’re a news reporter now. Can you honestly tell me that you think everyone in this world is kind and good?”

“Can you honestly tell me that Jack isn’t?” Her voice was high and hysterical now. She took a deep breath and tried to mimic her father’s demeanor. “You really think that the boy who led that strike, who dealt with everything you threw at him, would leave his brothers without a second thought?”

She watched her father consider this, but quickly turned away from his blank expression. Keeping her feelings off her face was something she practiced, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was an open book.

“I cannot honestly tell you anything about the boy’s personality,” Pulitzer finally declared. “But neither can you. You only knew the boy for a week, you do not really know anything about him at all.”

“I know that’s he’s kind and selfless and that he wouldn’t just _leave_ ,” Katherine replied, clenching her hand in her skirts. She should have remained silent, let her father talk at her and lecture her until he was out of steam, and then begged for the records from the train station. But now, she couldn’t help herself. “I know that he cares about things, like the boys, and me, and that’s more than I can say for you!”

It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it even as she was formulating the sentence, but she couldn’t help it – she said it anyway. Her father’s calm demeanor finally cracked, and his eyebrows twitched, almost like he was wincing, before his eyes narrowed.

“So you think the boy cares about you?” It wasn’t the outburst she was expecting – her father sounded almost amused at the idea.

“I know he cares about me,” she said. _He has to._

_Or, he could have left for Santa Fe without even considering my thoughts or feelings. But he wouldn’t do that, would he?_

“If he cares about you so much, then why would he go to Santa Fe?” Pulitzer was trying to get her angry again, so he could tell her she wasn’t thinking clearly and send her away. And it might have worked, if he’d replied a few seconds earlier, before Katherine had the same thought.

_Whether he thought about me or not, I have to get those records from the train station. That’s the only way I can figure out what’s going on._

“It doesn’t matter why he went,” she replied with a steadier voice. “I still care about finding him, and you can’t understand that. You just don’t care as much as I do.”

Now, she’d done it. She didn’t even name it, but they both knew what Katherine was referencing – the reason why she claimed her father didn’t care. It was the same reason why every peace between them would be a temporary and fragile peace, and why talk of the late Mrs. Pulitzer was strictly forbidden in the house.

“You can pull yourself aside, look at a situation logically, and I try, but I can’t,” she rapidly continued, trying to move on. “It’s one of my wrinkles, if we really are cut from the same cloth. And I care about Jack, even though I know it doesn’t make sense, and I know that he probably did go to Santa Fe. I still care about him, I want to make sure he’s okay. The last time he disappeared, he was being held in a basement and beaten.”

“Please, feel free to go downstairs and check,” he replied dryly, instead of addressing the skyscraper-sized elephant in the room.

“I didn’t mean to imply anything,” she said after a moment.

He waved her off, opening the small box on his desk. It was one of the few family artifacts that he kept in the house. He took out a cigar, and the room filled with the smell of smoke and cedar. After lighting it and taking a puff, he looked back toward Katherine.

“We both know that there is no other place the boy would travel to,” Pulitzer said. “He is either in Santa Fe, or New York. If he is in Santa Fe, he is living his dream. If he is here, I can still assure you that he is safe. The Refuge is closed and the Delancey brothers have been at the distribution gate every day. The boy wanted to go to Santa Fe. In all likelihood, he has finally traveled west.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “But you know me, and you know that if there’s any evidence to prove where Jack is, I want to find it. I just want to be absolutely certain, for me and the newsies. The train ticket receipt would be the last piece of evidence that would confirm it for everyone. Then we can all get back to our lives – I’ll be writing the paper, and they’ll be selling it.”

Katherine cringed inwardly as she said this, but tried to keep her expression steady. It was a last-ditch effort – she had no intentions of losing her friendship with the newsies, ever. But her father would always want her as far away from them as possible, and hinting at that outcome might be enough to push him over the edge.

He took another puff on his cigar, examining her expression. She hoped she’d kept it blank enough to convince him that this might be the way to get her back into his world of upper-class suitors and parties.

“I will find the receipt for the boy’s ticket,” her father finally said. “But you simply must move past this obsession. I know you believe you have a connection with this boy, but the world is a big place. There are many other boys, most of them with more desirable backgrounds. Jack Kelly put you aside to follow his dreams. You should do the same.”

Two thoughts struck her at the exact same time. The first was how eerily similar his suggestion was to what she wanted to tell Crutchie just an hour ago. She had thought exactly what her father was thinking now.

_But I didn’t. I understand that it’s not that easy to move on, and I don’t expect him to anytime soon. I’m trying to make it easier for him, he’s the one who wanted more evidence. This doesn’t make me the same person as my father._

_Of course I’m not the same person as my father._

The second thought she had was that this was the first time she’d heard her father use Jack’s name.

“Thank you,” she finally said, rising from her chair. She turned to leave her father’s study. As she shut the door, she heard her father speak one more time.

“Katherine?” She paused, meeting his eyes through the crack in the door. He was still smoking his cigar, but he leaned forward, examining the papers on his desk.

“You won’t be able to buy a ticket to Santa Fe without an escort,” he informed, glancing up from his papers. “And the only escort you have is me. Keep that in mind.”

She pushed the rest of the door shut with as much force as she could. It still only made a tiny click. Despite the consistent feeling that something was wrong with the evidence, it really did seem like Jack was in Santa Fe. And now, with her father’s last comment, she was also sure that she would never make it there to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented over the past few days. I know I've been terrible about sticking to my update schedule - blame college. I promise I'm going to do better! 
> 
> And who knows... more comments and kudos may make me update faster! 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr @GraceFC. Send me prompts or questions!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Jack left, he didn’t think about Finch, or Mush, or anyone in the room, Katherine included. Did he really deserve all of the work she was putting into this search?

“Let me get this straight.” Race leaned forward on the wooden crate the newsies used as extra furniture. An old, unlit cigar dangled from the corner of his mouth. “You wants to write another story about us?”

“What for?” Finch asked. “We ain’t strikin anymore.”

“To show people how the strike has helped you!” Katherine rushed to explain. “If I can write a story about how you were able to get better working conditions from the strike, maybe others will work together, too. You all are inspirational!”

“Cool!” Les shouted, giving her a cheeky grin. She had seen him come in with Romeo, who grudgingly admitted that Les had missed a few more days of school. She gave the young boy a small frown.

“What would Davey say if he were here?” Elmer asked. “He knew what to do the last time ya wanted to write about us.”

Katherine didn’t expect the boys to resist this story. She understood their hesitation last time, when they had a clear goal to get the most publicity possible. But now, they had no reason to search for better press. She thought they would be happy to get into the newspaper again.

“He’d say what we’s all thinkin’, but he’s just too nice to say it,” Finch rose from where he was slumped on the other side of the room. “Well, I will. You’s just tryin’ to make Pulitzer look good by sayin’ how good we got it after he decided to settle the strike, right?”

“What? No!” Katherine defended.

 _This piece is about the newsies, it’s a follow-up on them. It has nothing to do with my father._ She paused, realizing her major error. _Except for the fact that it literally has everything to do with my father._

It was just like Pulitzer to suggest a story that only benefited him in the long run. She could see it now – writing about how well-off the newsies were now that the strike had been settled would paint her father as a benevolent side character who brought prosperity to these boys.

“Actually,” she said over the hum of side conversations that cropped up while she was thinking. “Finch is right. I didn’t mean for it to, but writing this story would make my father look good.”

“Once a Pulitzer, always a Pulitzer,” Finch sneered, moving back to his far corner. Katherine jerked forward, but stopped short at an outstretched arm from Crutchie.

“We’re all dealin’ with Jack bein’ gone in our own ways,” he murmured. “Finch ain’t takin’ it so well. Just let him be.”

She sighed, sitting down on the wooden stool in the corner with as much force as she could muster. Finch made a face at her from across the room, and she glared back.

“If ya still need an idea for your story, try talkin’ to Davey,” Albert suggested. There was a strange note in his tone, something that made Katherine suspect he wasn’t serious.

“Yeah, haven’t you heard? Davey’s all _educated_ now,” Mush chimed in.

“He’s so much better than us, he can’t even be bothered to say hi when he passes us on the streets,” Race added. “He bought a paper off of Specs the other day with a bunch of his rich friends and didn’t even say nothin’!”

The other boys shouted their agreement. Katherine looked toward Crutchie, who ducked his head. He didn’t add to the growing complaints, but he didn’t negate them either. Next to him, Les also had his head lowered, but it wasn’t in avoidance like the other boy’s. It was in shame.

“Enough!” Katherine cried, her high pitched voice cutting through everyone else. “Les, come with me. The rest of you, I’ll be back.”

She tried to imitate the tone she’d seen mothers use with their disobedient children, and while she wasn’t sure that it was right, it had the desired effect. The newsies shrunk back in their chairs and looked at her with wide eyes. The room was a mix of expressions – scared, embarrassed, and guilty.

Les followed her back out into the hallway where their last conversation started. He sat back down on the chair, and she squatted down in front of him to be at his eye level.

“I hate when they do that,” Les mumbled. “Davey drives me crazy too, but I still love him. I think they hate him, and they’re my best friends. What am I supposed to do? I can’t stand up to all of them.”

“They’re just worried,” Katherine told him. “First Jack disappeared and now you both are back at school. The union is losing its leaders.”

“Well I can’t fix that!” His eyes were wide.

“You don’t have to!” Katherine replied, trying not to laugh at the boy’s serious expression. “They don’t mean to hurt you when they’re talking about Davey. They probably don’t know that they are hurting your feelings.”

“I’m scared that if I keep going to school, they’re all gonna think I’m like Davey, too,” he admitted. “I don’t want them to hate me.”

Katherine remembered when her problems were all concerned on her lack of friends. It hadn’t taken long for her to realize that Darcy and Bill were enough to deal with by themselves, but for awhile, she was only worried about whether everyone she came into contact with liked her. Much like Les was now.

“Those boys don’t hate you,” she told him. “You know they change their selling spots just so they can meet you after school? People don’t go to big lengths like that for someone that they hate. They only do it for someone they like. A lot.”

“I just love sellin’ papes with them and I don’t want them to stop talkin’ to me cause I go to school now,” Les said.

“Les, they’re your friends. If you still like them and work hard to respect them, they’ll respect you back. Davey’s just in a tough position. The strike wasn’t as fun for him as it was for you.”

Being a leader had definitely taken a toll on the older Jacobs brother, but not many people saw it. She’d seen a side of Davey that he desperately tried to keep hidden, the stressed out, worried, nervous, scared side. The side that couldn’t help but break down crying after Jack had spoken against the strike at the rally.

She wouldn’t let anyone add to his stress, especially not his little brother.

“Now, what’s this I hear about you skipping more school?”

“Who told you?” He clenched his fists. “None of the boys would snitch on me like that. Was it Davey?”

“A good journalist never reveals her sources,” Katherine replied, wagging her finger. “But I thought we talked about this, Les. You can’t keep missing school. It’s important.”

“But Katherine,” Les whined. “The guys at school are boring. All they want to do is talk about baseball, not anything important at all! I love sellin’ papes. I love readin’ the headlines and the articles and seein’ the pictures and no one wants to talk about them.”

“You know someday, you could be writing the headlines and the articles,” she told him. His eyes lit up, and Katherine knew she found the best way to stop him from skipping his classes. “But if you want to do that, you can’t just miss school. It’s hard work and you have to learn a lot.”

“If I went to school all the time, I could be a writer like you? That’s what you’re sayin’?”

“Sure you could!” Katherine told him. “School is the best practice for being a writer. You have to write a lot, and there’s a lot to write about at school. Sometimes you can even write made-up stories about the people you meet, as long as they’re nice stories.”

“Like how Jack used to make up headlines to sell papers!” Les exclaimed.

Katherine paused, surprised at the twinge in her chest when Les mentioned Jack’s name. She shouldn’t feel heartbroken whenever his name was spoken. But if this whole situation was teaching her anything, it was that she couldn’t control her emotions, as much as she would like to.

“Yeah, just like how Jack used to make up headlines.”

“I miss him a lot,” Les said. “None of the other boys will say it out loud, but I think they do too.”

“Well of course they do,” she replied. “We all miss him.”

“He went to Santa Fe, didn’t he?”

She wasn’t sure how much Les knew – what the boys had told him and what he’d overheard from the group conversations. She didn’t even know what she should tell him – was she supposed to try and protect him? Tell him that Jack still loved them all and that he would be back soon?

_Well, he’s going to find out eventually._

“Yeah, we think so.”

“Katherine, maybe I could practice writing an article! Like I could send Jack a newspaper telling him how much we miss him. Then he’ll write back, right?”

It was the kind of idea only little kids came up with. At only nine – almost ten – years old, Les still believed in whatever he hoped to be true. The idea that Jack didn’t want to talk to him – or to any of them – was unfathomable. Besides, Les’s parents surely taught him that if someone wrote you a letter, you were supposed to write back. That was just proper etiquette, and of course Les thought Jack would know it.

Katherine knew the truth – that if Jack hadn’t written to them yet, he wasn’t going to write. But if sending him a mock-newspaper would make Les feel better, and possibly keep him in school, how could she say no?

“I’m going to go get started right now,” Les said, not waiting for an answer. “Thanks, Katherine! You’re the best!”

The little boy sprinted out the door of the lodge. The door banged shut behind him and sent a blast of wind through the front hallway, blowing some dust up from the scratched wood floors. Katherine knew that the newsies did the best they could, but this place needed a good cleaning.

When she walked back into the living room, the boys avoided her gaze.

“Davey is your friend, your brother.” She launched right into her scolding. “Without him, the strike never would have succeeded. You all would be paying 60 cents for a 100 newspapers, and there would be no buy-backs. And this is how you treat him? I know things have changed, but you all must try and remember what he’s done for you. And even if you’re upset with him, you can’t show it in front of Les. That poor boy is torn between you and his real family, and he doesn’t deserve that. The only thing he’s done is admire all of you.”

A few of the boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats. She tried to make eye contact with all of them, but a few – Finch, Mush, Albert – pulled their hats low over their faces to avoid her.

“All of you are brothers, everyone in this room and Les, and even Davey,” she continued. “You can’t turn your backs on each other now.”

No one spoke for a few minutes, and Katherine remained standing in the doorway. She hated speaking in front of crowds, even if it was just the newsies, but she didn’t want to show any sign that she was nervous. The boys had to stick together now that Jack was gone, and she was going to convince them of it, no matter how many speeches she had to give.

“She’s right, fellas,” Crutchie finally broke the silence. All eyes turned toward him, and Katherine relaxed. “She’s smart, too, you know. She’s gonna help us look for Jack.”

“Jack’s gone and Davey’s a scab,” Finch spat, standing up from the wooden crate he was perched on. “We don’t owe them anything. Jack don’t wanna be found and Davey wants nothin’ to do with us. I’m here to sell papes and that’s it. I don’t need any of the rest of you.”

“Jack would do anything for you,” Katherine snapped. “How can you turn your back on him now, when he needs you the most?”

“He don’t need us the most,” Albert retorted. “He left, on his own terms, and he’s the one that didn’t say g’bye. Not us. We got no reason to go lookin’ for him.”

“He’s your brother,” she countered.

“Brothers don’t just leave!” Mush burst out, drawing stares from the whole room. He self-consciously crossed his arms. “Jack ain’t our brother anymore, he wouldn’t just leave us like that. Same with Davey.”

“Please, I just know that something isn’t right, because you’re right.” She hated begging. But she needed all the help she could get to look for Jack. “You’re right that brothers don’t just leave, but Jack _is_ your brother. We have to make sure that he’s okay. Because I know that it looks like he is, but I’ve got this terrible feeling that he isn’t.”

“Your girly feelings don’t change nothin’,” Finch said from across the room. “You got proof that Jack ain’t in Santa Fe? Then you can come talk to me.”

Katherine couldn’t believe it when Finch stomped out the door, followed by Albert, Henry, and Mush. After everything that Jack and Davey did for them, they honestly felt like they owed no debts? They could sleep at night, knowing that Jack was out there somewhere, and doing nothing to make sure he was safe?

But didn’t they also have a point? If Jack left, he didn’t think about Finch, or Mush, or anyone in the room, Katherine included. Did he really deserve all of the work she was putting into this search?

_It’s not for him. Well, it kind of is – but only a little bit. It’s for me. Because I can’t sleep at night, knowing Jack is out there, even if he doesn’t care about me any more._

She looked around the room at the remaining boys. Their faces mirrored her own – full of shock, disbelief, and a little anger. Only Crutchie’s expression was different, and he just looked sad.

“Well, at least we knows where everyone stands,” Specs said. “We don’t gotta bother with the rest of them any more. We’ll look for Jack on our own.”

“If we’re gonna do that, we need more help,” Romeo interjected before Katherine could tell them about her father and the receipts from the train station.

“Who else could we ask?” Race broke into the conversation. “There’s only six of us, seven if you count Les.”

“Eight of us,” another boy said from the doorway. Katherine whipped around – she’d been paying so much attention to the conversation, she must not have heard the door open. She smiled at the newcomer. She never would have bet that he would have come here on his own, but here he was.

“How can I help?” Davey Jacobs asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh look who's back!!! 
> 
> Giant thanks to everyone who has commented/kudosed so far! Y'all keep me going. 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr - @GraceFC. 
> 
> As always, the biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It couldn’t have been easy to get your father to help us,” Davey said, coming to sit down next to Katherine. She just shrugged in response. It hadn’t been easy, but she didn’t want the boys to think she was complaining. They all had to make sacrifices to look for Jack.
> 
> “Old man Pulitzer, helping the newsies!” Race crowed, punching Specs on the arm. “Now that would be a good headline.”

Davey’s welcome was not exactly what Katherine would call warm. She gave him a quick smile, but the expressions in the rest of the room ranged from confused to downright hostile. His posture, originally straight and confident, faltered a bit and he leaned against the doorframe, hesitant to enter the room.

“Hey, Davey,” she eventually said, trying to make things less awkward. The boys were still staring, except for Specs, who had found a really interesting stain on his shoe to examine.

“Hello, Katherine,” Davey replied. He paused, as if deciding whether or not to greet the other boys. She gave him an encouraging smile. Finally, he nodded at them.

“Need to buy a pape, Dave?” Race sneered. Davey winced.

“Uh, about that.” He paused. “I don’t know the right way to say this, but Specs, I was a real… son of a biscuit to you the other day.”

Specs looked up at the other boy, giving him a calculating stare. After a few seconds, he cracked a grin and adjusted his glasses.

“Son of a biscuit?” He repeated, openly laughing. “Do ya kiss your mother with that mouth?”

While Davey tried to defend his choice of insult, the rest of the boys jumped in on the teasing. The awkward tension from before hadn’t completely dissipated; Davey was still standing in the doorway, and Race was still giving him a tiny glare. Still, the loud laughter was a welcome change from the arguments that filled the lodge over the past few days. It felt almost normal.

“So, you guys are looking for Jack?” Davey asked, desperately trying to change the subject. His cheeks were red and his teeth were clenched, but it was in an effort not to smile.

“We’ve looked everywhere we can think of in New York,” Elmer said. “He’s gotta be in Santa Fe.”

“My father agreed to get the records from the train station so we can figure out where he went,” Katherine said. The boys all turned toward her, surprised looks on their faces.

“Well, ya coulda told us that sooner!” Romeo exclaimed, snatching the cigar out of Race’s mouth and sticking it in his own.

“It couldn’t have been easy to get your father to help us,” Davey said, coming to sit down next to Katherine. She just shrugged in response. It hadn’t been easy, but she didn’t want the boys to think she was complaining. They all had to make sacrifices to look for Jack.

“Old man Pulitzer, helping the newsies!” Race crowed, punching Specs on the arm. “Now that would be a good headline.”

“Ow!”

“Is there anywhere you haven’t looked in New York?” Davey asked in an attempt to distract everyone from a possible wrestling match. “Obviously you checked the rooftop, you checked the jails, you talked to Medda and Spot-”

“The jails?” Romeo interrupted. “Why would we look at the jails?”

“Because even though the Refuge is closed, Jack is still a wanted thief,” Katherine answered slowly, with a growing sense of dread. _Of course. The jails. How could I not have thought of this sooner?_

It all made sense – the bad feeling she had, the lack of communication. The only thing that didn’t add up was his train ticket, but for all she knew, he could have been trying to visit her, or anyone else around New York. He could have been arrested while he was on the rooftop, packing to meet her in Boston. That would explain the mess.

_This is it. It has to be._

“So… you haven’t looked at the jails?” Davey stood up. “Jack wouldn’t know anyone to call if they even gave him a chance. He could be right down the street.”

“What are we waiting for?” Katherine asked, also rising from her spot on the couch. “Let’s go!”

She saw Specs nervously adjust his glasses, and Romeo drag his toe across a scratch in the old wooden floors. Race crossed his arms defiantly, but still made an effort not to look at her. The only boy who looked remotely normal was Crutchie, but he always looked like he was slightly uncomfortable.

“Uh, it’s just that if the cops were lookin’ for Jack, they might be lookin’ for some of us, too,” Crutchie finally said. “It might be best if the other fellas stayed here.”       

“Oh, of course,” Katherine said. Davey looked like he’d just been dropped in a room full of murderers, which could have been the case, though it was highly unlikely. “We’ll come back as soon as we know anything.”

Specs gave her a quick, grateful smile. Race continued to count the beams on the ceiling, and Romeo deepened the scuffs in his shoe. Davey was still staring openmouthed.

“Davey, Crutchie, are we going to sit here all day or are we going to go find Jack?”

The jail was the only place left that it made sense for Jack to be. She knew that he wouldn’t leave without telling her goodbye. She could almost feel his arms around her, his callused fingers on her face when they found him. Of course, she would find a way to pay his bail, to get him out of there.

Katherine was surprised at how centrally located the jail was – in between the Bowery and Broadway, it only took the group twenty minutes to walk from the newsies lodge. Crutchie insisted that he was fine, but she knew that was a long distance for him to travel, which is why she insisted that he sit and rest in the waiting room while she talked to the police officer.

“Can I help you, miss?” The officer asked, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“We’re looking for a young man who we think might have been brought here,” she said. “His name is Jack Kelly.”

“Pretty girl like you, you can’t be in here looking for your husband.” Katherine didn’t say anything as she watched his eyes start at her curly hair and travel over her vest and down her shirt. She had the urge to cross her arms, but stood her ground instead. He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “He ain’t good enough for ya, doll.”

“Excuse me, but-”

“We’re actually in here looking for my brother, Officer,” Davey interrupted, joining her at the window. She fumed silently. “This is my cousin, Agatha.”

_Did he really just cut me off? I can’t believe he just cut me off_

_Also, Agatha? Of all the names he could have picked?_

“That’s what I was just about to tell him… Ernest,” she replied as sweetly as she could muster. “My cousin Jack has a real problem with taking things that don’t belong to him, but we have to check in on him anyway. After all, he’s family.”

The cop raised his eyebrow at the two of them, but still turned toward his files.

“What’d you say his name was?”

“Jack Kelly,” Davey replied, putting his arm around Katherine’s shoulders. “Aggie, why don’t you go sit with your brother? This conversation is hardly fit for a lady.”

The policeman nodded his head in silent agreement. Katherine had half a mind to pull out her identification card from the Sun that marked her as a journalist, or even to drop her last name. No one deserved to be treated like this, especially just because they were a girl. But justice wasn’t the main goal here, finding Jack was, so she stomped over to take a seat next to Crutchie.

“Bastard,” she mumbled, earning a stern glare from Davey and a tiny snort from Crutchie. She couldn’t help but smile a little at his laugh.

“You can’t win them all Kath – uh – Aggie,” he said. “Though I woulda liked to watch you teach him a lesson.”

Katherine crossed her arms and let out a loud sigh, still glaring toward the desk. They were the only visitors in the lobby – it was still working hours for many people in the city. Through a small window, she could see cops escorting prisoners through a barren hall. Davey was still talking to the police officer, and Crutchie appeared to be counting the ceiling tiles. Suddenly, he stiffened, and she glanced over. He was watching the line of prisoners walk by the window.

“It’s okay,” she said. There were some frightening faces in the line, and even she shuddered slightly. “They’re all shackled up, they can’t get to us.”

He shook his head. She reached for his hand to try and comfort him, but Davey gestured for her to join him back at the front of the room.

“Come up with me,” she said. “You can’t see any of them from up there.”

“I’m just gonna wait outside,” Crutchie replied, limping quickly to the door. It was thick and wooden, but he managed to push it open hard enough for it to slam shut behind him. She approached the desk.

“He wanted my identification to make sure I’m Jack’s brother before I told him anything, but I don’t have mine on me.” Davey looked desperate as he scrambled to cover the lie. “Do you have anything?”

Of course she did – two different papers declaring her Katherine Pulitzer, not Agatha Kelly. She furrowed her brows as she tried to come up with an idea.

“Oh, who me?” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m just a silly girl, why would I need identification?”

_I can’t believe I’m doing this._

It was exactly what the officer expected, based on the smug look he gave Davey, who, in turn shot her a panicked glance.

“But officer, who would want to find my cousin but us?” She tried to adopt the high pitched tone she heard from girls her age at parties. It felt foreign and fake, but the cop didn’t look suspicious. “He’s just a boy who gets into too much trouble. Honestly, I wouldn’t even bother with him if my aunt didn’t insist on it.”

“Alright, miss,” he replied, still puffing away on his cigarette. “We don’t have anyone named Jack Kelly in here right now. But you didn’t hear that from me – we’re only supposed to tell the family with proper identification. Make sure your cousin remembers that next time.”

“I will, officer,” she replied, unable to keep up her cheery façade. She bit her lip as she turned around to leave. Davey was still facing the desk, staring at the floor, shoulders slumped. She wanted to comfort him, but she felt just as hopeless.

“Come on, Crutchie’s waiting for us outside,” she said, shuffling toward the door.

_Jail made sense. It explained almost everything – the lack of contact, the messy rooftop. It didn’t explain the train ticket, though I don’t know if even Jack himself can explain that to me._

_Where else could he be? Could he really have done it? Gone to Santa Fe, without me or anyone else, just like that?_

_No!_ It was that stupid voice again. She thought it had been quelled when they realized they hadn’t checked the jails, but it was back with a vengeance.

 _He’s in New York,_ the voice insisted. _You’re close._

They walked out into the bright sunlight that shined down on the streets at midday. Any earlier or later, and the buildings would cast some shade. Without a breeze, the air was hot and humid, and Katherine fanned herself as she spun on her heel to face Davey.

“The jail, the rooftop, the theatre, the art stores, Jacobi’s,” she listed, counting them off on her fingers. “Is there anywhere else in New York that we haven’t checked? Nothing else besides Santa Fe makes sense.”

“Uh, Katherine, I hate to say it but we might have another problem right now.”

She followed his gaze out to the street. There were few people walking around in the middle of the day, and even fewer carriages in the street. She glanced up at the brick buildings, looking for a sign of trouble, something amiss, but everything looked normal. There was even a newsie across the street, shouting headlines from The Tribune.

She turned around to face Davey again, and that’s when she noticed. They were the only two people on their side of the street. No shops, no pedestrians, no newsies, and most importantly, no Crutchie.

He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops a cliffhanger. Sorry not sorry?
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos keep a girl going - or you can send me prompts on Tumblr, @GraceFC. 
> 
> As always, the biggest of shoutouts to my faves Ellen, Sam, and Maddie who literally learned all about Newsies just to help me edit this monster.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack hadn’t felt clean in three weeks. He was covered in a layer of grit and dust, and despite having torn off the sleeves of his shirt many days ago, he was constantly sweaty. The bright beams of sunlight were always shining right on his face, so the only time he wasn’t squinting was when the gray moon came out at night.

Time seemed to move more slowly here. If it wasn’t for the constant sunlight, Jack was certain that he would have lost track of the days. As it was, he couldn’t be entirely sure that his tally scratched into the wall was right – there had been times he was so tired, he could have easily slept through a day.

Twenty-three days, as best as he could guess. Twenty-three days without seeing any of his friends. He wondered if the newsies were looking for him, or if they’d given up by now. He hadn’t been able to leave a note, and the boys didn’t exactly have a one-track mind when it came to anything other than food and girls. It was good, that they probably weren’t looking for him anymore. He was sure that he was impossible to find – the people behind his disappearance surely covered their tracks.

At least there was a window in the basement. Jack wasn’t much of an optimist, but that window was his saving grace. Without the light, he wouldn’t know what time of day it was, let alone how long he’d been here. As it was, the damp cellar reminded him too much of the small room he shared with his family as a child, where his mother got sick and he watched his dad crumble away. The rough wooden floor of this place felt too much like the Refuge, where the footsteps were so loud that you could hear them three rooms away, and you were left waiting to see who was coming to punish you.

With the window, he got to see the sky all day, and there was an hour at night that he could even see the moon. He knew he was still in New York – the Delancies visited every few days to drop some food and rough him up. But he didn’t recognize the voices he sometimes overheard from the building above, and he couldn’t see any buildings stretching into the sky outside.

For awhile, Jack worked hard to figure out who was behind all of this. The Delancies were out for hire, they had no loyalty to one boss. It had to be someone big, someone who was willing to mess with the governor and Pulitzer. But he stopped trying to understand after the first week, when the Delancies had made sure he wouldn’t be asking any questions for awhile. He still had those bruises to prove it, though they since added to his injuries.

There were the big ones – the clear outline of a bootprint over his ribs, the black eye he could feel but not see from when they snatched him on the rooftop, the ache in his arm he earned when he tried to add his own words into his letter to Pulitzer. Of course, they wouldn’t allow that. He had to write just what they said.

He had smaller injuries, too. Little scrapes and bruises where the men reminded him who was really in charge, just because they could. They didn’t even really hurt, but every time he saw the spots on his arms he remembered the threats the Delancies made.

It was the threats that actually kept him from asking questions, not the beatings. They named everyone he cared about – Crutchie, Davey, the other boys, even Medda. And of course, Katherine. The thugs knew where they all were, knew how to get to them.

Jack tried to convince himself that they were empty promises, that the boys could stick together and take care of each other. He knew Medda would be fine, as a black lady in New York she handled worse on a daily basis. And Katherine, she was Pultizer’s daughter. No one in their right mind would go after her. At least, that’s what he told himself.

But he thought that no one would go after him, either, after earning the approval of Governor Roosevelt and even grudging acceptance from Pulitzer. And if he couldn’t even guarantee his own safety, how could he be sure that his friends would be safe? What could he do to make sure they were unharmed from a random, mysterious cellar?

He could shut up and wait for this hell to be over.

At this point, after three weeks, everyone must have stopped looking for him. There wouldn’t be any clues. Even Katherine must have been out of ideas by now.

She was relentless, though. If there was any way to find him, she would be behind it, and she would be putting herself in danger. He hoped they would let him go soon, just to make sure she was safe. If he wasn’t missing, she couldn’t be looking for him.

 _If only the strike hadn’t happened._ His involvement with the Delancies would have been limited to daily scuffles, not kidnappings. Katherine would have been just one more stranger on the street, a smile and a wink that didn’t mean anything more than the other women he charmed into buying papers.

But the boys would be cold, suffering under one thin ragged blanket each. The fire in the lobby of the lodge would die out early, since no one could afford extra wood. Their food would be cold and stale.

Jack didn’t know what he wished for any more. He wished he could have a life with Katherine and the newsies, that he could get a real job illustrating for a paper and live in a real apartment in New York with a family. But as long as people were upset about the strike, that couldn’t be a reality. He would be a danger to his friends, to everyone he knew.

That’s when he wished he could just disappear. Leave everything behind and go. But try as he might, Jack couldn’t work up his old excitement for New Mexico. The strike changed everything. Now, he was a leader. The other boys counted on them, and while their lives were better, they were far from perfect. There were still improvements to be made, like getting real furniture for the lodge or taking care of the new kids who were bound to show up. Keeping the Delancies focused on _him_ at the gates in the morning instead of anyone else. Finding places like Jacobi’s to stay off the streets in the evenings.

The boys would be fine on their own for a few weeks or months, but when the older newsies – Race, and Finch, and Specs, and everyone else – when they were forced to move on to other jobs, what would happen? He had to be there to keep an eye on them, even when he moved on to a different job.

Katherine. She wouldn’t let the boys starve, or let her father walk all over them. She would keep an eye on them while he was gone, there was no doubt about it. Jack was surprised at how quickly she began to care for the boys, and how she wasn’t afraid to show it. The way she bought them all desert after the strike. How she hugged Crutchie almost as tightly as he had after his release from the Refuge.

It didn’t make sense, how quickly she adopted his friends, but she had. And if there’s one thing he knew he could count on, it was that Katherine was stubborn. If she was looking after the boys when Jack was still around, she wouldn’t give up on them just because he was gone.

She was so stubborn, and she never did what people expected. Girls had always been easy for Jack, a cheap line was all it ever took. Except Katherine rolled her eyes at his grins and actually gagged at his lines. She was confident and smart and funny, and damn it if that didn’t make him want her more.

Time seemed slower in the basement, where he was stuck underneath a grimy window and spent the days waiting for the Delancies to bring stale food and brass knuckles, but thinking of Katherine helped. He wished he had a piece of chalk, or even a pencil. Trying to scratch out a sketch in the dust on the floor wouldn’t do her justice, the way her nose crinkled and her eyes lit up when she smiled. And of course, there were features he couldn’t illustrate, like how soft her hair was, even though she didn’t spend time caring for it, or how her fingers were always tapping on something, longing for a typewriter.

Without thinking about it, he started to draw again, using his finger. If he was going to be down here for another three weeks, he might as well try to get a perfect sketch. At least it would pass the time.

Damn it. This was wrong – not just the drawing, all of it. How many hours, days, weeks, of his seventeen years had been spent in locked rooms? How many times had he escaped? Would anyone blame him if – at this point – he wanted to give up?

Distantly, Jack realized he was yelling. It felt good, it drowned out his own thoughts. But then, suddenly, he heard the lock in the door click. He scrambled to his feet, knowing the Delancies weren’t above kicking him when he was down. He had the bruises to prove it.

But it wasn’t either of the brothers standing in the doorway. Instead, it was a different figure, one that he recognized. He blinked hard, knowing his eyes must be deceiving him, but nothing changed.

“Hello, Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOOM. Bet you didn't see that one coming, huh?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine hadn’t let herself dwell on their failure to find Jack at the jail earlier. Throwing herself into the search for Crutchie helped take her mind off their lack of answers. But now, climbing these stairs and ladders, even the physical exertion wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing a 10 page paper on progressive liberalism, so here's an update. 
> 
> (Also my fave Hamilton fanfic updated so I decided to update for y'all as well)
> 
> Hope your night is better than mine!

“Crutchie!”    

Katherine wasn’t the only one looking for the boy – even Finch and the rest of the newsies had called a temporary truce to figure out where Crutchie went. At least they knew he had to be in New York – he couldn’t have gone far at all. Still, they already scoured every restaurant and alley in a four-block radius of the prison with no luck. Which is why now, she was back on a rickety fire escape, trying as hard as she could not to look through the rusty, grated stairs below her.

_Stupid idea,_ she thought, gripping the railing tightly. _I can barely even make it up by myself. He’s not going to be up here._

Katherine hadn’t let herself dwell on their failure to find Jack at the jail earlier. Throwing herself into the search for Crutchie helped take her mind off their lack of answers. But now, climbing these stairs and ladders, even the physical exertion wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts away.

“Keep it up, Plumber!” Race came with her to the building, but stopped short at the sight of the fire escape. She didn’t love heights, but the other boy almost passed out just at the sight of the tall structure, so she was the one trekking up all of the stairs.

“Keep your eyes closed!” She called back, glancing down to see if his hands were still over his face. Whoever decided to make a tall staircase out of see-through metal grating was clearly not considering the ladies that may need to climb it.

Only one more flight to go, and Katherine focused back on the search for Crutchie. She remembered how he stiffened up at the sight of the prisoners, how scared he looked. Something in there had sent him running, literally.

Peeking her head up to the rooftop, she was already prepared to shout down to Race that they needed to keep looking, that this was a waste of time. But instead, she saw a figure curled up near the corner, where she’d left Jack’s blanket. He was facing away from her, but she could see his head of bright red hair.

“Crutchie?” she asked hesitantly, finishing her climb. He rolled over and rubbed his eyes.

“Katherine?” He seemed honestly shocked to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“I can tell you’s done climbin’, I can’t hear your footsteps no more,” Race shouted impatiently. “Is he up there or not? And can I uncover my eyes now?”

“I found him,” Katherine called back, leaning over the rail. “Go tell everyone else to stop looking.”

“You all have been looking for me?” Crutchie asked as she watched the other boy sprint back toward the lodging house.

“Of course we have,” she replied, taking a seat next to him on the ground. His eyes were red and swollen, and the collar of his shirt was wet. Jack’s blanket was next to him, crumpled into a tiny ball. “What’s wrong?”

It was too broad a question – of course, there were so many things that were wrong happening right now. They were on Jack’s rooftop without Jack and down below on the streets of the city the newsies were surely splitting apart into two groups again. And then, of course, there was the actual answer to her question, whatever sent Crutchie running for the rooftop.

“You all don’t gotta worry about me,” he said, wiping his eyes once more. He tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Really, Katherine, I’m fine.”

“Crutchie,” she said softly. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to hide, that he could trust her, that he had nothing to be afraid of. Just as she opened her mouth, he began to talk.

“When we was in the jail, I saw Snyder walk past that window,” he choked out. “I know he’s locked in there and all, but what if he gets out? He saw me, he knows I’s been talking to the lawyers. If he got out, he’d try and come find me, for sure.”

Her heart broke for the boy. She could try to tell him that Snyder would be locked up for a long time, or that he’d probably forgotten all about the individual boys from the Refuge by now, but she knew that she couldn’t guarantee either of those things. With his power and the corruption in the city, it wasn’t far-fetched to say that Snyder would get a short sentence. And the way he pursued Jack all those years – well, it made sense that he would remember Crutchie, too.

“We would never let him get to you.” Katherine wrapped an arm around him. “You’ve got a whole family watching out for you here. You couldn’t even go missing for an hour without us sending out a search party. Even Finch and Henry, all those other boys were looking for you, too.”

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he mumbled, sniffling.

“No, no!” She rushed to finish her thought. “My point was that they love you, Crutchie. They’ll make sure that Snyder doesn’t get to you. Besides, hopefully he’ll be in jail for a very long time, especially if you testify at the trial.”

“I know it’s never really going to be over, but I thought I might be close to forgetting some things.” He finally peeked up at her face, and she felt herself start to tear up at how vulnerable he looked. She never would have pegged Crutchie as someone who masked his true feelings every day – that was all Jack. But now, she got a quick glance at how he really felt, living every day with a constant reminder of everything that happened to him in the Refuge. She hugged him a little tighter.

“Jack helped, ya know,” he said, muffled by her shoulder. “He always made sure that no one bothered me, even if it meant letting the Delancies take a crack at him. And I feel real guilty that I let him do that, but he wouldn’t ever give me a chance to complain or nothin’, and it helped. Made sleepin’ at night a lot easier.”

“He would do it again in a heartbeat,” she replied automatically.

“Yeah, I woulda said the same thing a few weeks ago.” He sniffled and pulled away from her shoulder. “But prison was the last place in New York that made sense for him to be. He’s in Santa Fe.”

She sighed. Crutchie was right, as much as she hated to admit it. It was much easier to believe her hunch that Jack was nearby, and there was just something keeping him from contacting them. That way she didn’t have to reevaluate her opinion of him, or think too hard about why he would leave her. Was it something she did?

He had to be in Santa Fe. It was the only explanation that made sense. But it was never her first thought. Her gut was still telling her that Jack was here, that he was in New York, and that he had to be in trouble. Otherwise, there would be a letter, and his belongings on the rooftop would have been carefully packed away.

But there was also the train ticket, and the letter to her father. Both of which she could explain away – but the idea that someone, somewhere set all this up was outlandish. Besides, she had no proof.

She couldn’t let herself dwell on that now. She had more important things to do, like comfort Crutchie. Katherine knew that she couldn’t replace Jack. She couldn’t taunt the Delancies every morning to keep them away from the other boys, or sweet talk someone like Mr. Jacobi into letting them all relax in his restaurant. But she could accomplish the same goals, through different ways. A stern word from her might be enough to keep the thugs away from the boys in the mornings, and some of her extra pocket change could be enough to buy the newsies some treats after work. As for everything else…

“Listen, Crutchie, whenever you miss Jack, or you want someone to talk to you just come find me, okay? I know I can’t ever totally understand what happened to you, but I can listen and try to make you feel better.”

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was all that she could offer. And for the time being, it seemed to be enough.

“Thanks,” he smiled at her weakly. “Look, Katherine, no offense but-”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by clanking from below. Footsteps, she quickly realized, running up the fire escape. The only people who knew they were up here were the other newsies, but they surely understood that Crutchie might want some time to recover.

Of course, Jack was her first thought. But that was even more preposterous of an idea. If he was still in the city, casually visiting his rooftop, they would have found him already.

Yet, when she saw a dark head of hair poke up above the ladder, she still took a sharp breath in. It was quickly followed by small, chubby cheeks and two grubby hands.

“Hiya!” Les said as he crawled over to them. Crutchie turned away to hastily wipe his eyes, and Katherine was trying to slow down her heartbeat. The young boy’s eyes widened as he watched both of them. “Sorry, did I scare ya?”

“Just a bit,” she replied, taking advantage of the excuse. “Who told you where we were?”

“Davey told me everyone was lookin’ for Crutchie, and this was the only place that made sense.” He shrugged, and Katherine made a note never to challenge Les to hide-and-seek. “Anyways, Katherine, look I finished!”

She wasn’t sure if Les knew better than to ask questions about why they were looking for Crutchie, or if he had already come up with some justification for it. But either way, she was grateful he was avoiding the topic. Instead, he held out a crinkled piece of paper with some messy handwriting on it.

It was his mock-newspaper for Jack. The big writing across the top, clearly intended to be the headline, read, “Newsies Of New York Miss Their President.” Les had clearly thought hard about what to write, because half of it was scratched out. Katherine found herself tearing up at the articles – “The Search For Jack Kelly Is On,” “Mr. Jacobi Promises Free Pastries,” and, of course, “A Letter From Les.”

_Dear Jack,_

_Hi! I hope you like Santa Fe. Is it hot there? Do you get to ride ~~palameeno~~ horses? Are the horses bigger there? The horses here are already big. They scare me. _

_Are you going to come home soon? I hope that you come home soon. Everyone misses you. Well Race didn’t say he did but I think he still does._

_Do you sell newspapers in New Mexico? Are they like the newspapers here? Are the headlines good? I want to be a writer now. ~~Cathurine~~ Katherine said she would help me. _

_I hope that you write me a letter back. It doesn’t have to look like a newspaper. It can just be on normal paper._

_Sincerely,_

_Les Jacobs_

Katherine couldn’t help but smile. The rest of the paper was written similarly, and even featured a sloppy stick figure drawing of the newsies looking for clues in New York. She was featured, too, made evident by her triangle-shaped dress and floor-length hair.

“Les, this is great!”

She noticed a few smeared lines, a tiny circle where the paper had been soaked and then dried. Her heart broke. When Katherine went home at night, she was left by herself to stare at Jack’s drawings and clutch the clothes he left behind and think about everything they shared. Alone in her dark room, sometimes she forgot that she wasn’t the only one hurting.

“It would be better if it looked like a real newspaper,” Les replied, sticking his lower lip out a little. “Davey tried to help me keep the lines straight but I didn’t do so well.”

“You know, my friend Darcy has his own printing press. I bet he would help you out if I asked him nicely,” Katherine said, remembering her earlier promise to meet him for coffee this week. She felt a small pang of guilt that she hadn’t contacted him yet, but knew that he would understand. Things were hard right now.

“Really?” He jumped up to hug her around the neck, catching her off guard. She moved to hug him back, but he’d already bounced away. “This is gonna be so great! Jack’s gonna see it and come home right away, right?!”

“He’s gonna love it,” Crutchie said, saving her from answering the question. She mouthed her thanks when Les wasn’t looking.

“Here, you keep this.” Les gave her the paper. “Tell Mr. Darcy thank you for helping. I have some homework to do before school tomorrow. But Crutchie, can I sell papers with you after?”

“Sure, Les.”

"Cool! Okay I’ll see ya then!”

He disappeared back down the ladder before either of them could say goodbye. Even though Les was here to show them a letter he’d written to their missing friend, his excited attitude was contagious enough to coax small smiles out of Crutchie and Katherine.

“Come on, let’s get you off this roof,” she said, standing and brushing the dirt off her dress. “There are plenty of boys down there want to make sure you’re okay, even though they’ll pretend they don’t care.”

He rolled his eyes, but let her help him up. She noticed that he was still holding Jack’s blanket, but chose not to say anything. After all, Crutchie had neglected to mention all of his other missing possessions – he must have figured out that she took them after their last meeting on the rooftop.

“I am going to give you my home phone number,” she said, pulling a scrap of paper and a pen out of her purse. “If you ever want to talk, just tell the operator that you want to call collect. I’ll make sure that everyone at the house knows to answer.”

“Katherine, I got more than a nickel, I can afford a phone call,” he muttered. Still, he took the number from her and slipped it in his pocket. “Besides, won’t your father get mad if I start callin’ your house?”

_Probably._

“Who cares?” She said instead. She’d take a few patronizing lectures from her father and constant jabs about the company she kept if it meant Crutchie wasn’t constantly reliving his days in the Refuge. It was a small price to pay.

She insisted on going down the fire escape first so that she could catch the other boy if he fell. And he complained about being treated like a little kid and how he was perfectly capable of making the climb himself, after all, he’d gotten up alone just fine didn’t he? But Katherine caught him smiling as they started the trip down, her in front, and for now, that was enough.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments keep a girl updating! 
> 
> Send me prompts, thoughts, whatever on Tumblr - @GraceFC.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ticket receipts! Katherine barely noticed the envelope had already been opened as she yanked the papers out, nearly knocking over her mug. Darcy added two lumps of sugar to his coffee and stirred as she pored over the documents.
> 
> There, circled in red. Ticket #3048 Jack Kelly – one-way – cash – Santa Fe, New Mexico.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a long time since I updated. My bad!

“Hello, Mr. Jacobi!” Katherine hadn’t been to her favorite deli since before her vacation. With everything that happened, it felt like a lifetime ago. The familiar wooden chairs and tables were a welcome sight, but she perched on a stool at the counter to wait for Darcy. This was one of the only places in town that she could visit alone without a probing conversation from the owner. Mr. Jacobi didn’t even ask when she’d shown up to meet the newsboys so long ago.

“Miss Katherine, why have you been avoiding me?” He dramatically drew a hand to his heart. “Is it that my baking is not as good as you assured, or that I’ve finally become too ugly for your eyes to bear?”

“Neither! I knew if I came, I would eat too many of your treats that someone would have to carry me home!” She proclaimed, playing along. “Alas, I couldn’t resist the temptation, and here I am.”

“I may have to call those newsboy friends of yours to carry you away,” he joked, already pouring her a cup of coffee and putting a pastry in the oven. “Though, it might be easier to leave you here so that you don’t take too long to return again!”

“I have been a little busy,” she said. On a normal week, Katherine would visit Jacobi’s at least twice, for visits with Bill and Darcy. Occasionally, she would stop in by herself in between her afternoons at _The Sun_ and her evenings at the theatre. But this week, all of her time was spent at the newsies lodge or out looking for Jack, not chatting with friends or scribbling more pointless fluff for the entertainment beat.

“Ah, yes, the missing Mr. Kelly,” Jacobi replied. Katherine sighed. She knew that she was going to have to talk about Jack’s disappearance – Darcy would surely ask about it – but that didn’t mean she wanted to. She’d spent all of last night trying to get rid of whatever it was that was telling her Jack wasn’t in Santa Fe, but she couldn’t destroy her feeling.

“Well, Miss Katherine, while you’re looking for him, just remember that a poodle doesn’t listen to the mutts at the dog show,” he said, putting her soufflé in front of her. Jacobi tipped his hat as the bell tinkled over the door, signaling Darcy’s arrival.

“Hello, Mr. Jacobi,” he said with a cheery wave.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Reid,” the old man replied, already placing another soufflé and coffee in front of the stool next to Katherine. He left the pitcher with more coffee in front of them, then discreetly exited the dining area.

“I need to apologize for not reaching out to you earlier,” Katherine said immediately as her friend sat down. “You’re my best friend, and I didn’t intentionally ignore you. How are you doing?”

“I am alright,” Darcy replied, but his furrowed eyebrows told her otherwise. He pulled an envelope from his briefcase. “Your father was at my house, no doubt discussing business with my father, and he gave me these to bring to you.”

_The ticket receipts!_ Katherine barely noticed the envelope had already been opened as she yanked the papers out, nearly knocking over her mug. Darcy added two lumps of sugar to his coffee and stirred as she pored over the documents.

There, circled in red. Ticket #3048 Jack Kelly – one-way – cash – Santa Fe, New Mexico.

_What do you have to say to that?_ This time, she was actually hoping for her annoying hunch to fight back. But the voice was silent. Maybe it had never been there in the first place, it was just her hoping that Jack hadn’t really done it. But now it was clear that he had, that he left. That her father was right all along, Jack was no good for her. That Crutchie would always feel guilty about doing anything other than selling papers. That Les would be forced to understand that his leader – his idol – left them all, with no intention of talking to them again.

That he left her, and that was what hurt the most. She knew it was selfish and vain, but her dreams – of finally having someone to depend on, a family she could trust – those were all over. Maybe someday she might meet a nice boy at a party, someone who her father approved of and she tolerated, liked even. But it wouldn’t be enough.

She was trying as hard as she could not to cry in front of Darcy, but she couldn’t help it. Katherine hated crying, a little because of the snot and tears, but mostly because she couldn’t control it. She didn’t cry often, but when she did her voice cracked like crazy and she was sure that her face was an ugly shade of red.

_I love him._ It wasn’t something she intentionally avoided admitting, but their relationship had been so brief that she convinced herself she couldn’t be in love after only a few days. But she knew this feeling, what she was feeling now, it was too familiar. It reminded her of black dresses, of a year of silence, of her mother’s name engraved into a block of stone.

You only felt this degree of sadness – of mourning – when someone you loved left you.

“Katherine?” Darcy looked up from his mug. “Oh, Katherine, wait! Don’t be upset, please.”

She just stared at him.

“Right, I probably should have told you this before you opened the envelope.” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Sorry about that. But I think those papers are a forgery.”

“What?” She tried for a sharp tone, but it was ruined by her sniffling. He shifted uncomfortably on his stool. Darcy excelled in structure social atmospheres, but a conversation like this was hardly covered in his upper-class school.

“Look, here, at the numbers,” he said instead, reaching for the papers. “Here’s number 3047 – for a Miss Eliza Williams, and number 3049 is for Peggy Williams. I know Williams is a common last name, but I would bet that these two are related, and I doubt that Jack got in line between the two of them.”

If it had been her thought originally, Katherine would have said she was stretching, it was probably just a coincidence. She would convince herself that she just wanted to believe he didn’t leave, that she was making a mountain out of a molehill.

But this was Darcy’s idea, not hers. She looked again at the numbers, the names, and back up at her friend. If he was right, and Jack didn’t buy this ticket, that still brought up the question of where he was.

“If that’s true, someone would have to intentionally re-type this,” Katherine said slowly. “And the only person that knew I wanted to see these was-”

“Your father.” He finished her sentence and took another drink of coffee as she processed this. “As far as I can see it, Katherine, there are two possible reasons that your father would change this record. The first, is that he wants you to move past whatever it is that you have with Jack, and thought that convincing you he went to Santa Fe was the best way to make that happen.

“The second is…” he adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “The second is a little more complicated.”

“That Jack isn’t in Santa Fe, that my father knows what’s happening to him, and he’s covering it up,” she said flatly.

“Right.” Darcy adjusted his glasses again. His soufflé was almost gone – he was trying to avoid having to accuse her father of anything by keeping his mouth full. He was watching her carefully, but Katherine focused on keeping her face blank while she stabbed into her dessert.

Pulitzer was trying to make things work between them. He’d never tried before. Now, he agreed to keep an eye out for information on Jack, he’d even accepted her for her differences. Could it really be a part of some elaborate scheme to keep her away from Jack Kelly?

Having grown up with the man, her head said yes. Pulitzer would go to any lengths to get what he wanted, and he definitely didn’t want her and Jack to be together. But Katherine’s heart told her that this wasn’t Joseph Pulitzer, titan of the New York newspaper industry. This was her father, making an effort to rebuild bridges that they both burned over the years. He believed mistakes were in the past, they weren’t worth revisiting, but now it seemed as though her father was actively trying to make up for his old slip-ups

“What if someone at the train station changed the receipts?” She asked, trying to keep the conversation away from her father. Darcy respected Mr. Pulitzer, but he’d never made his personal opinions public. If he liked Pulitzer, Katherine would spend all afternoon trying to convince him of what a terrible person her father was. If Darcy didn’t like him, she would feel obligated to defend her family. She wasn’t even sure of her true opinion, she just knew she would argue.

“Why would they do that?” Darcy asked, swiping crumbs off his tan suit.

“Maybe someone told them to, to cover up Jack’s disappearance,” she made up. “Any business owner whose employees participated in the strike could be mad at him. They could have taken him, or something.”

“Kidnapped him?” Her friend considered this. “I suppose it is possible, but most of those strikes ended within a day or two. The big companies were hardly impacted at all. The only businesses that have justification to be really upset with Jack are the newspapers. That’s my father, Bill’s father, your boss at The Sun, and your father.”

Back to square one. Did Jack leave her, and the Williams names were a mere coincidence? Was her father trying to help her move on? Or was there something bigger at play here?

Her head was starting to hurt. She needed to focus on something concrete, something easy. Reaching for the coffee, her arm bumped her purse. Putting on the best fake smile she could, she turned toward her friend.

“Darcy, did you mention that you have a new printing press?”

“It’s not a printing press,” he scoffed. Yet, his eyes still lit up. Something about printing always excited her friend. “It’s a mimeograph. You put stencils down over the inkwell, and crank the handle, then ink is forced through the stencil onto the page. Really, it’s quite simple. But I’m trying to find a thicker stencil material. See, right now I’m using this waxed paper, but it tears so easily and isn’t sustainable for more than a few dozen copies, and-”

“Alright, alright!” She let out a halfhearted chuckle, despite the weighing sadness in her chest. “Mimiograph. Not printing press.”

“Mimeograph,” he corrected, but quickly returned to silence, even though she could tell that he wanted to continue talking.

“Could you print this to look like a real newspaper?” She handed him Les’s letter. He examined it carefully, then nodded. It wasn’t anything intricate, besides the drawings, but they were simple enough to cut out of a stencil.

“Let’s go right now, I can show it to you!” He jumped off his stool. Katherine tried to follow with the same enthusiasm, and ended up knocking over her seat.

_And this is why you’re not an actress._

It would be so easy – too easy – to tell Darcy that she would see him another time, that she had something to do. Maybe a story to cover, or an event of her father’s. He wouldn’t bother her about it. Then she could go home and curl up under her favorite quilt.

_But Darcy is your friend, and you haven’t seen him in weeks. Time to grin and bear it and be a good friend back._

Katherine plastered her smile on even wider, if that was possible. Darcy left a few bills on the counter – Katherine had given up a long time ago on trying to convince him that they should take turns paying. Instead, she tried to return the favor in other ways – complimenting him loudly in front of other girls at parties, using her family coach when they were traveling together, and of course, listening to him gush about mimeographs.

“It has two colors of ink,” he told her, taking her arm. “Patented by Thomas Edison!”

“Goodbye, you two!” Mr. Jacobi called, having emerged from the back kitchen. “And I expect to see you back soon. No more fimble-famble about being busy!”

“Of course, Mr. Jacobi,” Darcy replied graciously, placing his hat back on his head. Katherine smiled and nodded before leaving the restaurant.

The Reids lived in the same neighborhood as the Pultizers, far uptown, and it took a while for the pair to make it back home. They happened to be leaving downtown with the vast majority of the workers returning home for the day. By the time they reached Darcy’s home, Katherine knew more about mimeographs and printing than she ever wanted to.

“Let’s see this amazing machine!” she said, trying to keep an upbeat attitude. Darcy smiled excitedly at her and practically sprinted down the steps to his family’s cellar. They hadn’t installed electric lights in the basement yet – it was mostly used for storage, after all, but the flicker of the oil lamps on the staircase gave Katherine a distinctly uneasy feeling.

When she reached the bottom, letting go of her skirts, Darcy was staring at the door with a frown.

“Well, come on!” She gestured at the door. “You can’t give me the entire history of mimiography and then hold back now.”

“Mimeography,” he corrected out of habit. “But the door is locked. I don’t have a key. It’s never locked.”

“Maybe a new maid wasn’t sure, and locked it to be safe,” she suggested. She could tell that Darcy was disappointed – he clearly wanted to show off his new toy. He just kept frowning at the brass doorknob and deadbolt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Katherine bumped his shoulder with her own. “I’m not going anywhere. You can show it to me later this week, after your father gets home and can give you the key. Les can wait a few days for his letter.”

“It’s never locked,” he repeated slowly. Cute wasn’t an adjective Katherine had chosen to describe Darcy before, but now, locked out of his playroom and pouting like a child, it seemed to fit. She ruffled his sandy hair.

“I will have my father open it tonight,” he said. “I have no clue who would have locked it!”

If anyone was taking bets, she would still put money on a new member of the house staff. Instead, she nodded before dragging her friend back up the stairs. He led her to the front door.

“I’ll see if my father will let me use the telephone to contact you after I talk to him about this later,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “If it is still a reasonable time, maybe I could show it to you then.”

Katherine was still a little amused. Her upper-class, slightly snobby friend was acting like a petulant toddler.

She patted him on the head again as she stepped outside his house. He returned the action, and Katherine could literally feel her curls frizz up. As soon as he was back inside, she let the goofy smile drop and tugged her arms around her chest. Without the cheerful charade to keep up, it felt like she had to keep herself from literally breaking into a thousand pieces.

_Could it really be true? Could my father know something about Jack, and not have told me?_

_And more importantly – would it be better for him to know something and hide it, or know nothing at all?_


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On her walk home, Katherine tried to come up with any scenario that didn’t include her father covering up Jack’s disappearance. Her original idea – that someone at the train station edited the receipts, or that another businessman in town was behind everything – seemed less and less likely the more that she thought about it.

“Hello, Katherine.”

The door wasn’t even shut before she heard her father’s voice. It had been months – maybe even years since Pulitzer paid close attention to her comings and goings. With her job at the newspaper, she was hard to predict. Now, though, he was sitting in her mother’s favorite chair in the parlor, casually flipping through the day’s paper.

“Good evening,” she replied as brightly as she could muster. On her walk home, Katherine tried to come up with any scenario that didn’t include her father covering up Jack’s disappearance. Her original idea – that someone at the train station edited the receipts, or that another businessman in town was behind everything – seemed less and less likely the more that she thought about it.

By going to the train station and asking for the receipts, Pulitzer was admitting that he was looking for Jack Kelly. The most powerful man in New York publicly declaring his interest in finding Jack – that should have been enough to scare off anyone else who could have been responsible for his disappearance.

“I trust that you visited with the young Mr. Reid today? He had a package to pass on to you.” Katherine finally turned away from the door toward the parlor, a room they typically reserved for entertaining guests. Sometimes, it was out of respect – after all, the entryway was the nicest space in the house, full of trinkets and gifts from the wealthy and well-known of New York. But these gifts were also symbols of Pulitzer’s power, which is why this room was just as often used to intimidate adversaries. Katherine figured the reason they were in there now had something to do with the latter.

“Yes, I got it.”

_Good, Katherine, you have to be careful here. You can’t just blurt things out like last time._

“You will be happy to know that I already sent someone to tell the newsboys about what those receipts say. Now you’ll never have to see those ruffians again.” Pulitzer adjusted his glasses as he casually turned the page of the paper he was reading – _The Tribune_ , Darcy’s father’s paper.

_He sent some random lackey from The World to tell the newsies that Jack went to Santa Fe? But they don’t know anything about those boys, like that they should have made sure that Les wasn’t in the room, or that they should have let the older boys break the news to everyone else!_

Katherine knew what she said – that finding out what happened to Jack meant that she could leave the newsies behind, once and for all. But she never meant it, even for a second.

Her father was looking up at her now, gauging her reaction. She released her fists from where they were clenched in her skirts. He wanted to provoke her, to get her mad enough that he had a reason to punish her. After all, if she was free to come and go as she pleased like it was a normal day, she could visit the newsies tomorrow.

_But still, if I just turned and went, he wouldn’t be able to stop me. Of course, he would be incredibly angry when I got back, but at least I could comfort the boys._

_And what do you think they’re doing now, stupid?_ The little voice was back, and with a vengeance. _Crutchie and Davey – they’ll take care of everyone, and each other. They don’t need you to comfort them right now, they need you to figure out what is really going on with Jack._

Katherine sighed. Whatever was happening in her brain was right – she had to figure out if those records from the train station had been forged, and if so, who had done it. No matter what else her father threw at her, that had to be her first priority.

That was why, with her teeth clenched and an inward curse, she took a seat on the small sofa across from her father.

“Thank you for saving me a trip across town,” she said, picking up the day’s edition of _The Sun_.

Pulitzer raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. They both stared at their respective papers, him actually skimming the day’s news and her trying to figure out what to say next.

“Thank you for going to get those records from the train station,” she finally said. “I’m sure the workers were a little intimidated by you personally coming in and asking for them.”

“It was not a problem, the station master owed me a favor,” he replied dismissively.

_So it wasn’t one of his employees that went to the station, it was actually him. Which means no one else handled the receipts. So no one else could have made an alteration._

“I have to say, I was surprised that you gave them to Darcy. He’s always had such an overactive imagination.”

“I am not sure what you mean.” Pulitzer furrowed his brow.

“Well, he has some idea that the records had been altered, only because two people have the same last name or some nonsense.”

Katherine felt a little guilty for blaming her friend, but this was the only way that she might be able to get the answers she needed. Besides, her father barely tolerated Darcy anyway – _The Tribune_ was the main competition for _The World_. Any change she caused in her father’s opinion of Darcy wouldn’t be significant.

“It was more convenient than having to deliver them to you myself.”

She didn’t reply. It was a tip she’d picked up from one of her favorite reporters at The World – Brian Denton. If you stayed silent during an interview, most of the time it caused people to talk more, to give you more information. She wasn’t sure if it would work on her father, but it was worth a try.

“Were you able to convince Darcy that his theory was ludicrous?”

 _And there it is._ She allowed herself a small smile, hiding behind her paper, before she replied.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Katherine could see Pulitzer frown at his own words being used against him.

“The records are paper copies. The originals, in fact. The station master kept the copies. Those documents are unalterable.”

“Well, yes. Unless someone retyped them.”

“I was the only person to handle them.”

“So if you retyped them…” She lowered her paper to see her father’s face clearly. There was a look of frustration that barely veiled the rage boiling underneath.

“This is starting to sound less like Darcy’s theory and more like one of your own.” He strained to keep his tone casual. Katherine could count the warning signs as to what was coming – they were all there, in his expression, in his tone, in his words, but she still pushed farther.

“So what if it is?”

He slammed his paper down on the table, not even trying to conceal his fury now. She tried her hardest not to flinch, to keep her expression blank, to pretend his anger didn’t bother her.

“I do not know how to make this any clearer, Katherine!” Pulitzer shouted, standing tall above her. “This boy left you. He didn’t care. He put himself above everybody else. And I will not allow you to continue this foolish search for this poor, uncivilized fool that you think you’re in love with.”

It took everything in Katherine not to shout back that Jack had to care about her, he just had to. And even if he didn’t care about her, he cared about the boys. And even if he didn’t care about them, he cared about Medda. If he was planning to leave, he would have told _someone_.

“I just want to make sure that he’s safe,” she replied, trying hard to keep her tone level.

“No, I have had enough of this nonsense! You are better than whatever is driving you on this senseless course. And if you cannot stop yourself, I will.”

_What does that mean?_

“I am confining you to the house. You will not be allowed to leave, not to work, not to visit Bill or Darcy, and especially not to visit those filthy newsboys,” he spat. “You will stay here until this ridiculous whim of yours is finished. Then, one of the servants will accompany you whenever you leave, so that you aren’t tempted to try and lie to me.”

“You can’t do that!” Katherine was standing now, her paper crumpled at her feet.

_This is worse than I could have ever imagined._

“If you break the terms of this arrangement, you will regret it. St. Mary’s Finishing School is still accepting applications for next term.”

_Finishing school?! He can’t do this._

“I’ll be eighteen in a month, surely you can’t expect me to stay if-”

“And where is an unmarried eighteen year old girl going to go?” He taunted. “Maybe you should have listened to me when I told you those balls and parties were important. If only you had accepted the life of wealth and leisure-”

“It doesn’t matter,” she interrupted, clenching her fists. “I’ll go anywhere but here. I can sleep on the streets. I could live with the newsies.”

The pang of satisfaction she got from her father’s expression was overwhelmed by her fear. He was serious, deadly serious, and she hated to admit it but he was also right. No one was going to let an unmarried woman live on her own in their building.

_I’ll figure it out. After all, it looks like I have a month of sitting in this damn house to make a plan._

But she couldn’t even pretend in her head that she was going to stop looking for Jack. A month was far too long – if he was in danger, she couldn’t wait a month to start searching again. She had to find him now.

“Just wait, and see that I’m serious,” she said, watching each word dig a deeper line into her father’s angry expression. Before he could reply, she walked, as calmly as she could, upstairs to her bedroom.

_Okay, Katherine, think. There is no way that he can enforce this, right? He’s at his office downtown all day, he can’t keep an eye on you then. Except that there’s an entire house full of staff watching you and he probably paid the neighbors to keep you in here, for good measure._

_I could sneak out my window and go over the back fence. It would be really hard in a dress, but I could do it. And then what? I come back and he sends me to St. Mary’s._

She kicked the edge of her bed, as hard as she could. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that it hurt, but right now all she felt was frustration. Toward her father, toward Jack, toward herself. If he hadn’t disappeared, if she could have found him sooner, if she wasn’t stuck here where there were no clues…

 _That’s not necessarily true._ Her hunch was back. _Your father does live here, after all. If he forged the train receipts, he could have done it here. You aren’t confined to your room, you’re confined to the house. Don’t you think his office might be a good place to look?_

Katherine paced around the room, limping slightly from her encounter with the bedpost. Of course she should investigate her father’s office. Anything he knew about Jack’s disappearance would either be there, or in his office downtown.

But she had to wait until her father went to bed, and tonight seemed to be an especially late night. Maybe he was waiting for her to come downstairs, to see if he could get in the last word. Or maybe he was actually working. Or maybe – her favorite possibility – he was actually rattled by something she said, and it was keeping him up.

In any case, after spending the next few hours alternating between pacing the length of her room, laying on her bed and clutching Jack’s shirt, and pressing her ear to the door to see if her father was still awake, she finally heard the click of the lock in his room. After another fifteen minutes, just to be safe, she tiptoed downstairs, using the worn dress shirt as a shawl.

_I’m not breaking any rules. I’m just going downstairs for dinner, since I missed it earlier. That’s a good excuse. And even if he catches me in his office, I’m still not doing anything wrong. I am inside the house._

Despite all this, she made sure that the door shut as quietly as possible when she entered her father’s office. The limited light from the streetlamp outside cast a orange shadow over the room, making the dark furniture look foreign.

Following the small section of floor lit from outside, she made her way carefully to her father’s desk. First drawer, blank sheets of paper for his typewriter. Second drawer, cigar lighter, wax seals, a heavy fountain pen. Third drawer, files about the paper’s finances, an envelope, a folder containing a list of employees-

She snatched the envelope, hidden toward the back of the drawer. Inside, there was cash. Hundreds of dollars worth.

Suddenly, there was a shrill noise, loud and brash. Katherine shot up, hitting her head on the lip of the desk.

_The phone._

Before she could think, she pulled it off the hook and held it up to her ear. Her father couldn’t hear that noise, he would find her here and despite technically not breaking any of the terms of their “agreement,” he would still find a way to punish her.

Adopting the best impression of her father’s gruff tone, she raised the mouthpiece.

“Yes?”

“Good evening Mr. Pulitzer, I’m so sorry to be calling so late.”

She recognized that voice, and nearly sunk to the floor with relief.

“Darcy?”        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA, A NEW CHAPTER! 
> 
> I'm so sorry I haven't been updating for y'all. Since the last time I posted, I've moved - twice. So it's been a bit of a month. Hoping to get back to regular updates soon!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Darcy, it really is quite late,” Katherine whispered into the phone. “Is everything alright? What on earth is going on?”

“Darcy, it really is quite late,” Katherine whispered into the phone. “Is everything alright? What on earth is going on?”

“My father won’t let me into the basement. Something is wrong.”

“What, that you didn’t get your way for once? That’s why you called? My father is already angry with me, he – well, let’s just say we might not see each other for awhile.” Her voice caught in her throat. “I have to go, if he finds me here-”

“Katherine, wait.” Darcy hesitated. “I took his key. My father’s, I mean. So we can print Les’s paper.”

“It’s the middle of the night!”

“Aren’t you even a little curious why he won’t let me in to _my workroom_?” There was a small shuffling noise. “I think my father’s coming. Listen, come to the back door in ten minutes and we can sneak in together. I have to go.”

“I can’t, Darcy.”

“When your father was at my house earlier, he and my father were coming upstairs from the basement. And now, I’m not allowed to go down there. Doesn’t that make you even a little bit curious?”

Of course it did. But she couldn’t try to solve every mystery right now, she had to focus on the biggest one, the most important one.

“My father is definitely coming downstairs. Either come over or don’t, but I’m going to figure out what’s going on down there where you’re here or not.”

“I- wait!” She tried to say, but he already hung up. Katherine sighed. She couldn’t go – she had to stay inside for a month so she didn’t get shipped off to finishing school for a whole semester. She had to finish going through her father’s desk, to figure out what that envelope of cash was for, to find a clue, any clue. But despite all this, she stuffed the envelope of cash in her pocked, shuffled to the door, and quietly stepped outside.

The evening air was thin and cold, and Katherine regretted not bringing a coat with her. But it probably would have made too much noise, so she was actually better off being chilly. At least, she had Jack’s shirt to use as a makeshift blanket.

_I don’t even know why I’m doing this. Darcy’s idea about what might be, possibly, a clue isn’t worth the risk of being caught out here so late at night._

Darcy knew her well, though – she couldn’t resist an unanswered question. Which is why now she was sitting on his back porch, furiously rubbing her arms and glancing around to make sure she wasn’t seen.

“I’m so sorry, Katherine,” Darcy whispered as he carefully opened the door. She stood up from the step and ducked inside, grateful for the break in the cold wind.

“That’s alright,” she replied, even though she was still freezing. “Did your father find you?”

“I told him I was sleepwalking.” His chest puffed up at the lie. “Not bad for thinking on my feet, right?”

Despite all of the horrible events of the night, she couldn’t help but smile at how proud her friend was. He rarely acted against the wishes of his father, but when he did, he fully committed – like the time they both tried to run away to London when they were eight, or even just a few weeks ago when he helped them print the paper for the strike. Now, he held up a ring of keys.

“Ready?”

She nodded. Darcy had to link arms with her to make it to the basement stairs. The house was dark – any light, even the soft oil lamps near the cellar would surely catch someone’s attention. Instead, Katherine stumbled through the Reid’s living room, one hand out in front of her. Darcy was good at navigating the big obstacles, but twice she almost tripped over the thick rugs that covered their parlor floor.

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmured as she lurched forward again.

“Why does your family have so many rugs?”

“Mother is convinced they are the height of fashion right now.” He paused. “So I assume things did not go well with your father this evening?”

“You assume correctly,” she whispered back. “He told me I wasn’t allowed to leave the house until I stop searching for Jack. And if he catches me breaking the rules-“ _like I am right now –_ “he’ll send me to finishing school.”

“That seems unjustifiably harsh.”

Katherine tried to make her snort as quiet as possible.

“It’s like you don’t know him at all. I made him angry, so he retaliated. To him, it’s justifiable and probably lenient.”

Darcy didn’t reply, just clutched her arm a little tighter as they neared the bottom of the stairs.

“There’s an old lamp at the bottom that we can light, I just didn’t want to draw any more attention to us than necessary.”

Katherine nodded in response, then, remembering the dark, whispered her thanks. She could feel the dank air that meant they were getting close to the bottom of the staircase. She never knew how Darcy managed to work in a space like this.

“Ready?” He asked, holding up the rusty, oil-filled lamp. She nodded and took the handle, so he could unlock the door. After fumbling with the ring of keys, Darcy pushed open the door to reveal exactly what Katherine was dreading.

Absolutely nothing.

A printing press in the corner, covered by an old sheet. A door with a dusty knob that led to the musty storage space they played in as children. A roll-top desk with the Reid family stationery. What had to be Darcy’s mimeograph, pushed into the corner. But nothing that even remotely looked like a clue.

Darcy’s eyes scoured the room, looking for any sign of a disturbance, any reason why he may have been kept out of his sanctuary. Everything seemed to be in the right place. Halfheartedly, he strode over and pulled the sheet off the printing press, as the reason he’d been locked out was hiding underneath it.

Katherine stepped toward the desk, but there was nothing in any of the cubbies or on top of the desk besides the stack of paper and envelopes. She yanked the top drawer open – nothing there either.

“Well, it looks like I’m just as paranoid as you thought,” her friend said. “I really thought that there would be something down here. I guess my father is just as mercurial as yours.”

Something still didn’t feel right, because Darcy was correct – Mr. Reid wasn’t the type to punish his son without a reason, unlike _someone_ she knew. She risked a whole hell of a lot, sneaking over here, and it couldn’t all be for nothing.

She yanked open the next drawer even harder – nothing. And another so hard it clattered to the floor – also empty.

“Katherine, stop it, you’ll wake my parents,” Darcy hissed from across the room. And she had stopped, with the very last drawer open. She was completely frozen.

Because this one wasn’t empty.

Darcy glanced over, and even from across the room, he froze too. Because what was inside wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be. He could only see the mess of gray, but he still knew what it was.

A hat. Jack’s hat.

Katherine didn’t remember reaching for it, but she suddenly had it clutched to her chest. She inhaled, and the sooty, charcoal scent wafted up to her. Tears sprung into her eyes.

_This is worse, so much worse than if he went to Santa Fe. If his hat is here, where is he? What happened to him?_

She looked around the room again. This was the clue, the ultimate clue, and it didn’t make any sense.

_Unless…_

Her eyes stopped on the storage room door. Darcy followed her gaze and wordlessly held out the keys. Clutching the cap, she slid the bolt aside and pushed open the door.

Despite everything, her gut instinct, the hat, she was still surprised to see him, all curled up in the corner of the room, right underneath the lone window.

“Jack?”

She gasped as he looked up, his face covered with a yellowing bruise. It was everything she could do not to whirl around and give Darcy a matching one.

_He was here, the whole time, in my best friend’s house? Just two blocks away, and I didn’t know? And Darcy expects me to believe that he didn’t know?_

“Ace?” Jack stumbled to his feet, looking at her as though she must be a hallucination. She tried to smile, to let him know that everything was going to be okay, though watching him struggle to stand was like a dagger in her heart. She expected him to smile back, to be glad that he was finished with whatever was happening in this terrible place, but instead his face abruptly paled.

“No,” he mumbled, taking a weak step toward her and yanking his hands through his hair. “You can’t be here. Damn it, Katherine, they’re going to find you and I can’t-”

And then he was kissing her, and she was confused and worried but also relieved, but none of that mattered now. He was in her arms and his lips were on hers and he was safe now. It wasn’t like their other kisses, it was desperate and raw. Jack clung to her, and she was surprised at how much he leaned on her for support. It was as if there wasn’t any strength left in him.

He whirled away from her as suddenly as he started the kiss and slid to the floor.

“Jack-”

“I’m fine.”

_No, you’re not. But you’re safer closer to the ground, where it’s less of a distance to fall if you collapse._

_What the hell is happening?!_

She didn’t realize she said anything out loud until Darcy threw his hands up defensively.

“I don’t know any more than you do, I swear!”

“Oh, do you just keep people locked in your basement so often that you lose track of who’s down here? What else don’t I know about you? Did you forge those train records?”

“No!” His eyes were wide with terror. “You have to believe me, I didn’t know anything.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Katherine-“

“I’m getting him out of here.”

“Where are you going to go? You can’t exactly just take him to your house.”

“You don’t get to know where we’re going. Now are you going to stand in my way or let me go?”

“Katherine-“ This time it was Jack saying her name. She reached down to help him stand again, looping his arm over her shoulder. He held back whatever he was going to say as she turned toward Darcy.

“Well?”

He stepped aside. Katherine and Jack slowly made their way up the stairs. He was heavier than she expected, at this point it felt like he wasn’t even trying to support his own weight.

“Katherine, really, you need to just leave me here,” Jack said, stumbling on the stairs. “I can’t go much further and-”

She shushed him, partially because they were almost to the top of the stairs, where the Reids could hear conversation more easily, but also because she didn’t want him to finish that sentence.

“I’ve been looking for you for weeks, Jack Kelly, and there’s no way I’m letting you go back into that cellar, now that I’ve found you,” she whispered as forcefully as she could. “We’re sticking together, understand?”

“If they know you found me, if they know we’re together, I don’t know if you’ll be safe.” His eyes darted around the room.

“It’s going to be fine,” she replied. It was an empty promise, meant to reassure him that she had a plan. He relaxed a little bit, and she put his arm back over her shoulder as they tiptoed out the back door.

She managed to convince Jack, but in reality Katherine could only guarantee one thing: she had no clue what she was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH! Okay. So, first I should probably apologize for never updating. I've been literally moving around the US and I have this job this summer that is truly wild, and basically I'm the worst. 
> 
> BUT I finally have some time to work on this, so updates should be coming more regularly! (And now that y'all finally know where Jack was, you might be able to sleep a tad easier.) 
> 
> Comments and kudos keep a girl writing. :) 
> 
> Come fangirl with me or send me prompts on Tumblr! @GraceFC


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not sure what to say,” she admitted quietly, perching on the edge of the bed. Really, she was burning with questions. Who took him? Why? What exactly did they do to him? Should she call the police? Was there anything at all that she could do to help?
> 
> “Me either,” Jack replied, fiddling with the strap on his sling. Katherine tried to stay quiet, to let him say what he wanted to say when he wanted to say it.

No one would describe the beds in the Hillare Hotel as small, but the lanky boy laying diagonally across one made it look positively tiny. Jack had barely lasted an hour in the room before falling asleep.

Katherine watched him now, the spots on his face making him look not-quite peaceful, the sling on his arm preventing him from fully stretching out. Of course she’d called for a doctor. Between that and the hotel room, plus the bonus she’d given the manager for absolute secrecy, half of the cash was gone from the envelope she’d taken from her father’s desk earlier.

_My father._ With everything that had happened – finding Jack, struggling to get to a hotel, calling a doctor – it was easy not to think about what this meant for her relationship with Pulitzer. But sitting here, with Jack asleep, she couldn’t stop herself.

_What if he really had nothing to do with his? What if he really didn’t know anything about Jack’s disappearance, and it was Mr. Reid the whole time?_

_What if he was really just trying to do what he thought was best for me?_

She shook her head. It didn’t really matter. Even if he knew nothing about what was happening to Jack, he still tried to stop her search, threatened to send her away.

_But if he didn’t know, maybe we can make amends._

She wasn’t even finished with the thought before she knew that it was ridiculous. After leaving in the middle of the night like she did, if she ever went back home she would be immediately sent to St. Mary’s.

_I can’t go back._

She didn’t realize that she was crying until the tears landed on her hands, folded neatly in her lap. She wiped away the next few hastily, but there were more coming that she couldn’t catch. She sniffled, and saw Jack stir. Sniffling again, she rushed into the bathroom so she wouldn’t wake him up.

_I don’t want to go back! I was going to leave in a month anyway. Last night I was desperate to get out of that house. So why am I so upset now?_

_Maybe it’s because you just found Jack beaten to a pulp and you don’t really have any money or food or clothes and he’s going to expect you to know what to do next, except you don’t know what to do next. Because you don’t have a home anymore, and you probably don’t have a job anymore, and you definitely don’t have a family anymore._

Katherine was gasping for air between heaving sobs now, unable to stop herself. She didn’t have a plan, not at all. Sitting on the lip of the tub, holding her head in her hands, she’d never felt so pathetic. Glancing up toward the cloudy mirror, she was shocked at her reflection. This wasn’t Katherine Plumber, the intrepid girl reporter who stormed into The Sun with an ancient typewriter and a packet of sample articles and demanded that she be hired, who wasn’t afraid of anything. This was Katherine Pulitzer, the wealthy girl who was only kidding herself, who could never make it on her own.

“Ace?” Jack was knocking on the door.

_Damn it._ She wiped at her eyes. _Nothing is going right. I can’t even cry in private without messing it all up._

“Ace, open up.” He tapped on the door a second time.

“Just a second!” Even in the cheap mirror, she could tell her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Her hair was knotted and the pins were falling out from running her hands through it all evening. It looked like she could have been the one locked in a basement for weeks. She was just missing the cuts and bruises.

_Speaking of which…_

She opened the door and put her hands on her hips. Narrowing her eyes, she gave Jack her best look of disapproval.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

If she was talking to anyone else, it would have worked. They would have backed down, left her alone. But she wasn’t taking to just anyone, she was talking to Jack, and he saw right through her.

“These walls ain’t exactly thick,” he said avoiding her eyes. Her breath caught as she took in his injuries again. She saw a bruise on his neck that she hadn’t been able to see before. Just one of many she was sure were hidden by his clothes.

“Jack, you used to sleep on a rooftop. Are you really going to tell me you woke up because I was… washing my face?”

He raised an eyebrow, but chose not to say anything about her weak lie.

“I think maybe we oughta talk about what’s been happenin’ over the past few weeks,” he said slowly, holding out a hand to her.

_Of course he wants to talk._ She inwardly cursed herself. _This isn’t all about you, Katherine._

He led her back into the room, gesturing toward the bed as he sat in the wooden chair. She was about to protest – that no, the mattress had to be more comfortable – but the look in his eyes told her that he wouldn’t have it.

“I’m not sure what to say,” she admitted quietly, perching on the edge of the bed. Really, she was burning with questions. Who took him? Why? What exactly did they do to him? Should she call the police? Was there anything at all that she could do to help?

“Me either,” he replied, fiddling with the strap on his sling. Katherine tried to stay quiet, to let him say what he wanted to say when he wanted to say it. But after thirty seconds of silence, she had to butt in.

“Just… start at the beginning. What happened?”

“Well, I was up on my rooftop, writing you a letter. Davey finally got me your address at your Aunt’s house. Uh, Sarah, right?” He looked up and she nodded encouragingly. “And then the Delancies showed up. Told me I had to go with them, otherwise they’d go after Davey and Crutchie and the boys and- and you.

“I put up a little bit of a fight though anyways.” His head was ducked, and Katherine could hear the shame in his voice. “I knew wherever they wanted me to go, it wasn’t gonna be good.”

“It’s okay,” she told him, reaching for his hand. He gave her a crooked half-smile.

“It really ain’t, since I almost let ‘em go after all of you to save my own skin, but it’s nice of you to say so.”

She almost interjected, to tell him that was allowed to put himself first sometimes, but Jack had already moved on with his story.

“It was night when they took me, and I was a little woozy from being beat up, so I wasn’t sure where we went. But we got to a house and they pushed me into the cellar and that was it. They’d come back every few days to drop off some food an’ test out their new brass knuckles. One time they made me write a letter to your father, saying no to the cartoon job. That’s how I got this.” He gestured to his bandaged arm, and Katherine winced.

“So, do you think it was Darcy’s father that caused all this?” she asked, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.

“It wasn’t,” he said darkly. “I’m sorry, but it was your father.”

She looked away, nodding, but blinking back more tears.

“Jack, I am so sorry.” She quickly swiped at her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

First there was the lie – Plumber, not Pulitzer. Then, when he found out – how helpless she was, how she couldn’t even force out an apology before her father cut her off. How she couldn’t rescue him from the first time he’d been held in a basement by the Delancies. She just couldn’t stop hurting him.

“I’m gonna go to the newsies lodge,” he said eventually, ducking his head to avoid her eyes.

_Of course he doesn’t want to be with me, not after my father has been torturing him for three weeks. What was I thinking? He’s hurt, and probably scared, and I caused all of it. Of course he doesn’t want to stay with me._

“I’ll call for a coach to take you there,” she told him.

“I don’t need-”

“Jack, you barely made it here from Darcy’s with my help. If you’re trying to go all the way downtown, you need a ride.” Her voice was flat, but clear enough that he could hear her even though she was staring in the other direction.

“I don’t want to cause you any more trouble,” he replied.

“Honestly, it’s the least I can do for how badly my family’s messed everything up for you.”

“Messed everything up for me?” The surprise in his voice instinctively made Katherine look up. Jack’s hat was on his head, the coat she’d taken from Darcy’s house draped over his shoulders. “Why would you think that?”

“Two broken ribs, a sprained arm, cuts and bruises all over your face and body-”

“Yeah, but all that will heal,” he interrupted. “They didn’t even get my drawing arm. I could probably go back to selling papes tomorrow.”

“Then if you’re fine, and it’s no big deal – which I don’t believe for a second – why are you leaving?”

“’Cause, I messed everythin’ up for you.” Jack perched on the bed next to her. “Nothin’s been right for you since we met. And now all this – well, it ain’t gonna fix things between you and your father. I never wanted to cause you all this hurt.”

Katherine stared at him for a few seconds. His eyes shone with anguish, his teeth biting down on his lip. This was new – no crooked smiles covering up his feelings or lame jokes to ease the tension. This was a Jack she hadn’t seen before. One who thought all of this was his fault.

“You idiot,” she said lowly, reaching for him and pulling him close.

He made a noise – surprise? Pain? She didn’t know, but he didn’t pull away from the kiss. He was warm – too warm, and Katherine found herself distractedly wondering if he had a fever, but – right, other important things at hand.

“Jack Kelly,” she said clearly, breaking away. “You are the most self-sacrificing, foolish, impossible boy _ever_.”

“Wha-”

“There is no possible sensible explanation in the entire world where everything that happened over the past few weeks is your fault.” He was doing his best not to look at her, but she guided his face back toward hers, trying to avoid the bruises. “The strike, sure, blame that all on yourself. Getting those boys a better working contract was all your fault. But that basement wasn’t anyone’s doing but my father’s. And to say that you’re accountable for the relationship between me and my father is just madness. I make my own decisions! I’m not stupid, Jack, I knew what could happen but I chose you, not him.”

It wasn’t until she said it out loud that it made sense in Katherine’s head – she had made a choice between her father and Jack. It wasn’t exactly a pre-planned or conscious decision, but it was the right one. Being forced to go back to her house and spend an eternity making amends with Pulitzer without being able to see Jack – that was far worse than her current situation.

“So you ain’t mad?”

“Oh, I’m furious, but not with you!” She studied his face as she spoke. His typical grin hadn’t returned, but there was a hint of it. She reached for his hand. “Please, don’t leave on my account. But if you still want to go, with everything that’s happened, I’ll understand.”

“Okay Ace, now’s your explainin’ time,” he said, the small smile quickly turning to a frown of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

"Just with everything my father’s done to you, you somehow still want to be here, with me. I don’t understand it. Your life could be so much more painless, so much easier without me.”

“Does this mean I can call you an idiot and kiss ya now?”

“Jack, this is important-”

“I know!” He looked at her, eyes wide. Then he cracked a huge smile. “You’re an idiot.”

She rolled her eyes as he leaned forward, but let him kiss her anyway. His lips were rough and chapped and tight from smiling. Katherine did her best to stay serious, but she couldn’t stop herself from winding her hands into his hair.

_He’s here, he’s safe. He’s going to be okay. It was all worth it._

“You wanna know the worst thing about being stuck in that cellar?” he asked, still holding her close. “It wasn’t the Delancies, or the nightmares, or the confusion. It was when they’d threaten you, because they wanted me to do something like write that letter. Everyone else, I knew would be okay. Crutchie’s got the rest of the boys lookin’ after him. And Davey and Les got their whole family keepin’ an eye on them. But you… it wasn’t until your father came to see me that I knew for sure you’d be safe.”

Katherine knew in the back of her mind that she should reassure him, tell him that she could handle herself, that he shouldn’t worry about her, but it was this other piece of information that she latched onto.

“My father came to see you?”

She felt him nod, his chin lightly tapping the top of her head.

“I wasn’t aware that he was that… involved with everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I suspected that he knew where you were, and now I know that he was behind all of this, but I didn’t realize that he actually saw you like this, locked in that cellar, and still thought he was doing the right thing. How could he do that? He’s my father!”         

Her father’s words echoed in her head – _different wrinkles, cut from the same cloth._ Could that really be true? Was a thirst – or even just tolerance – for torture really just a wrinkle?

“Ace, you ain’t nothing like your father,” he said, answering her unasked question.

_I hope that’s true._

She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Jack squeezed her a little tighter, with a newfound determination. There was so much to worry about – whether she could be like her father, what they would do in the morning now that her father was absolutely, most certainly going to send her to finishing school. But instead, she let herself be held, and banished the thoughts until tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE
> 
> So I gave you a bit of a long chapter (and some fluff) to make up for it. 
> 
> Thank you for all of your comments and kudos!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve been working on a plan for the last few hours and here's what I've got." Katherine handed him the notepad.
> 
> “We need a plan,” he read aloud, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I hate to break it to you, but that ain’t much of a plan.”

Katherine was used to waking up alone.

Everything in the hotel room was unfamiliar – the dark wallpaper, the thin comforter, but mostly the boy stretched out on the opposite side of the small bed. It was still dark outside, but the light from the streetlight filtering in gave her enough to see by. When they’d gone to bed, each of them had gotten as close to the edge as possible, and Katherine had insisted on building a wall of pillows between the two of them.

After everything that had happened over the last week – the lies that had been told, the boundaries that had been crossed, she wasn’t sure who to trust. Not that Jack wouldn’t be honorable – just that if anyone saw them sharing a bed…

_Why couldn’t the hotel just have rooms with two beds? Then we wouldn’t even have to worry._

If anybody saw them together, especially in the same bed, that would be it. Knowing her father, Jack would be arrested and probably sent somewhere worse than the Refuge.

She needed a plan. She was used to having all of the answers, and now she had none. The only thing she knew is that her father would be very, very mad, and she absolutely could not get sent to finishing school. What would happen to Jack then?

A plan. Right.

_I wish I had my typewriter._

Something about the familiar clack of the keys, the “s” that she had to push especially hard – it was comforting. When there was a blank page in front of her, everything became clearer, more concise. Her notepad and pencil that she took on interviews just didn’t have the same effect. But it would have to do.

It wasn’t until hours later that Jack woke up – the sun was just starting to peak through the window, and Katherine distantly realized that she got almost no sleep. But one second, she was sitting there in silence, staring at her notepad, and the next she heard Jack stir in the bed, and then a yelp.

“Jack?” She asked as he bolted out of bed, reaching for his shirt and pulling it on over his tank top.

“Why didn’t you wake me? I gotta get to the World, they’s probably sold all the papes already!” He stopped short, glancing at his sling and back at his shirt sleeve before pulling the bandage off, wincing.

“Jack, stop!” She rushed over, where he was gritting his teeth and trying to yank his shirt on. Grasping the fabric, she gently slid it over his shoulder. “You can’t work today.”

“Katherine, if I don’t work-”

“I know, I know you have to work. Just not today.” She put his sling back on, tightening the strap. “We have to figure out what’s next. Because if my father sees you without me, he’ll do something awful, like take you back to that cellar. And if he sees me with you, he’ll send me to finishing school. I’m only seventeen, legally he is still in charge of me.”

Jack hesitated, eyebrows scrunched together, hand rubbing his forehead.

“Okay,” he said finally. “So what do we do?”

She slumped down onto the bed.

“I’ve been working on a plan for the last few hours.”

“Hours? Ace, you need your sleep too-”

“And here’s what I got.” She passed him the notepad.

“We need a plan,” he read aloud, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I hate to break it to you, but that ain’t much of a plan.”

“I can’t go back to my father’s house. That only ends badly for both of us. But I can’t find a place to live on my own – no one will let a seventeen year old girl live by herself. I can’t just keep hiding in this hotel, because I’ll run out of money, and if I go to work to try and make more money, my father will find me.” She paused, trying to find a hole in any of her explanations. But there weren’t any – she’d been going in circles for hours. “There isn’t a plan. I’m Katherine Pulitzer, and I can’t figure out what to do. Even my dumb last name can’t save me from this.”

“So forget your dumb last name and think like who you really are,” he said gently, sitting down beside her. “You’ve never been Katherine Pultizer, least not as long as I’ve known you. You’re Katherine Plumber, you don’t take no for an answer.”

She sighed, grateful for the reassurance, but still out of ideas. Extended family wasn’t an option – even if they could get to Aunt Sarah’s, she would promptly call her father and send her back to New York. Bill might have been a solution, but with Darcy’s involvement in this whole situation, she didn’t know if she could trust any of her friends. The newsies lodge would have been fine before the strike, but since Roosevelt took to the boys so kindly, he’d sent a cook to feed them and generally keep an eye out. And surely the cook would not allow a girl to live with all of those boys.

“What if,” Jack began slowly. “What if you weren’t Katherine Plumber? What if you were Katherine Kelly?”

Her jaw dropped open.

“It doesn’t have to be real, at least, not yet,” he said quickly, tripping over the words in his rush to get them out. “We can just pretend. But if you’re gonna move out of your father’s house, you’s gonna need a place to stay. And like you said, there ain’t nowhere that’s gonna let you live there right now. But if you were married…”

It was good, better than any of the ideas that she came up with, and she wanted to tell him that. But the words wouldn’t form, and she gaped at him soundlessly.

_Married._

Of course she’d thought about it – that someday, she’d marry someone, probably have to quit her job and start raising children. It sounded awful. But Jack wouldn’t ask that of her, would he?

_Married??_

“God, I’m stupid!” Jack’s raised voice broke her from her shock. He clenched the blanket tightly in his fist. “I knew it, I knew that this ain’t the same for you as it was for me.”            

“Was?” she finally whispered. He looked away, and she spoke louder. “Jack, you said that this isn’t the same for you as it _was_ for me.”

He still glared away, his eyes fixed at some random point on the other side of the room.

“It’s a good plan,” she continued softly, trying to calm him down. “Much better than anything I’ve come up with. Really. It’s just… marriage. I’d have to quit my job. We’d have to have _kids_. But just because I don’t want to get married doesn’t mean that whatever this is has to be over.”

Jack turned toward her.

“Ace, I’d never ask you to quit your job, even if we did decide to have kids someday,” he said seriously, grabbing her hand. “If there’s one thing I learned from my father, it’s that a family don’t work when one person’s makin’ all the decisions. It’s the two of us. We’ve gotta figure it out together. And besides, I’m not sayin’ we should actually get married yet. I’m just sayin’ that telling Pulitzer we did might make things a whole lot easier.”

Katherine was speechless. This was more than she ever could have hoped for, more than she’d ever been told to expect.

“If I knew this would make you be quiet, I woulda tried this a long time ago,” Jack teased halfheartedly. After a few more seconds, his voice turned pleading. “Please say somethin’ so I know I didn’t mess this up.”

Logic – that was what made sense, what she always trusted in. And logic said getting married – even if it was fake – to this boy she barely knew was a terrible idea.

But where had logic gotten her over the past few weeks? Logic would have told her to stop looking for Jack ages ago. Logic would have said to abandon the search. Logic didn’t find Jack, she did.

“My father will be angry,” she said slowly, looking up toward him. “But it’s a good plan. It’s the best plan that we’ve got.”

“Don’t do anything you’s just gonna take back later,” he said, echoing his words that first night on the rooftop. Katherine crossed the room to sit next to him, and gently took his hand into hers.

“I really, really hope I’m not,” she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She still had that unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach – like someone was twisting her insides just a little too tightly. But it wasn’t the intense, flat rejection she felt when she thought about stopping the search for Jack. It was more of a warning to be cautious of her decisions.

_If I keep thinking about this, I’m just going to talk myself out of it. And we don’t have another plan, so I can’t let that happen._

“Alright, so how do we do this?” Katherine asked. “We can’t just show up at the circulation gate and surprise him.”

“That’s exactly what we should do,” Jack replied, adjusting the strap on his sling. “Think about it – the newsies’ll all be there, so they’ll have our backs. And your father can’t exactly have me arrested for no reason and take you away in front of all of them!”

“Um, you do remember when he had the police beat up a bunch of kids on a public street during the strike, right?”

“Okay, but if we tell him without a crowd around, then he’s definitely gonna arrest me and send you away. So really, this is the only chance we’ve got.”

She hated to admit that he was right, but he was right.          

“Fine. But there’s still a few hours until closing bell, and we can’t go anywhere. What are we supposed to do?”

“Tell me everything that happened while I was… gone.” He said, glossing over the pause. “Speaking of which, how long was I gone for? I kind of lost track of the days.”

“It’s Thursday,” she replied, trying to keep her voice light. She couldn’t break down like she had last night. They had a plan now, he couldn’t be wracked with guilt for her grief – especially since he wasn’t the one who should feel guilty in the first place.

“Let’s see, what’s happened?” she continued. “Well, Les keeps skipping school because he wants to sell papers with the other boys.”

Jack chuckled, but at a sharp glance from her, turned it into an impressively believable cough.

“It’s not funny!” she reprimanded anyway, watching him walk to the sink for a glass of water. “He should be focused on his education.”

“Of course he should.” Jack turned to face her. “I bet you that Davey would say the same thing.”

“As a matter of fact, he did.”

“So you’ve seen the boys then? How’re they doing?”

There was something in his eyes that led her to believe he’d been treating it lightly the night before, when he said that he didn’t worry so much about the boys. Not that she would expect him to – they were all family, and you worried about your family, whether you wanted to or not. Katherine knew that better than most.

“They’re alright,” she replied, knowing where this conversation would go. “They all handled your… departure… differently. Some of them didn’t take it so well.”

“What? Why not?”

Katherine paused.

“Did my father tell you the cover story he made up?”

He shook his head.

“He basically told us you were in Santa Fe. Made up a train ticket and everything. It all looked very believable and… some of the boys didn’t have any trouble believing it.”

Jack’s hand slowly clenched into a fist.

“Look, I was angry, too. They refused to help us look for you! But…” she hesitated.

_Why am I defending them now? Jack deserves to be angry, and Henry and Mush and all of them deserved to be yelled at._

“But the last thing your family needs is more conflict, Jack,” she said. “You all have been through so much over the last month. Maybe you should just let this one go.”

“After everything I’ve been through, they really think I could just leave like that? Without telling any of them? Without telling you?” He put down the glass with a little more force than necessary, but his eyes widened. “Oh. The note.”

“The one you wrote my father? That definitely didn’t help matters.”

“But obviously his story wasn’t _that_ good if you didn’t believe it. Those boys should have known better.”

_Do I tell him? I didn’t really think he’d left, not for longer than a minute or two. And the evidence was really, very good. If it wasn’t for that nagging hunch… Jack would probably still be in the basement right now._

“Unless… Ace, you didn’t think I’d left, did you?”

“Jack, the evidence,” she began, but when she looked up, the hurt in his eyes silenced her. “I knew that you wouldn’t just go to Santa Fe without telling me or the boys. But my father…”

“He has a real way of getting inside your head, ain’t he?” he muttered, looking away. It was enough to make Katherine want to ask all of the questions she’d been holding back – what exactly had her father said to him? What did they do? Why did they take him?

But she also knew that he would tell her when he was ready, that pushing him to answer would only push him away.

“I only thought you’d gone for a minute, maybe two. Only long enough for me to come to my senses and remember that you’re _Jack Kelly_ ,” she said, walking over to him. “You wouldn’t leave us all behind!”

“I’ll never leave you, Ace, not unless you want me to,” he replied seriously, putting an arm around her waist. “Never again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! There will definitely be a bit of a break before Chapter 17, since that's not even written quite yet. As always, comments and kudos keep a girl going!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, damn it. You are Katherine Pultizer-Plumber-Kelly. Whatever your last name is. You are Katherine, and you’re not going to let this man boss you around.

“Jack, wait,” Katherine hissed, pulling them into an alley.

“What, did you see another cop?” He craned his neck around the corner, trying to check for himself.

“No, but we still have a problem.”

They’d left the hotel over an hour before they needed to be at The World’s Circulation Gate. Katherine was paranoid about people finding them if they stayed in one place, and Jack – well, Jack was tired about being cooped up in small rooms.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!” she whispered, nearly hitting herself on the forehead. “Jack, we need rings. If we’re going to pretend to be married, we’re going to need rings.”

When she looked up, Jack was grinning.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Actually it is, because I can fix this problem really easy. How close are we to the Bowery?”

“We can make it if we hurry. What’s at the Bowery?” she asked, adjusting her skirts. If there was anything worse than wearing petticoats, it was wearing petticoats for over 48 hours without changing them.

“You’ll see. Come on!”

It was a tedious process. While Jack enjoyed just being outside and seeing people again, Katherine was examining every single person they walked by. If someone looked at them for more than a second, it was into an alley, or a storefront, or a café until that person vanished from sight. She may have been acting too paranoid, but it was better safe than sorry – especially when sorry meant facing her father.

“Medda’s?” she asked once they finally reached their destination. “Jack, that’s genius! Of course she’ll have extra costume jewelry.”

“Costume jewelry, sure,” he agreed, wrenching open the stage door. Katherine slid in behind him, leaving it open just a crack in case they had to run. Before she’d even turned around, Jack was yelling for Medda.

“Jack!” she hushed. She knew that she was being too cautious, but this unlikely plan had no chance of succeeding if they were caught before they had time to execute it. When she’d said that her father had eyes on every corner of the city, she hadn’t been kidding. They had to be careful.

“Jack Kelly!” she heard Medda yell. “Don’t tell me this is the first place you stopped. Katherine Plumber and them boys have been by almost every day looking for you! Where have you been?”

“Hi, Medda,” Katherine said, stepping out from backstage to see the other two in a tight hug.

“Nu-uh, you don’t get off so easy,” Medda said, releasing Jack. “You found him! Come over here and give me a hug!”

Katherine let herself be squeezed tightly, then the other woman abruptly let go.

“So what happened? Did you have to go to Santa Fe to drag his butt back here? Probably how his arm got hurt, too, you pulling on it so hard.” She laughed, messing up Jack’s hair.

“It’s a bit of a longer story than that,” Katherine said.

“Listen, Medda, I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I can, but there’s something that Katherine and I gotta do, and we gotta do it now,” Jack said, shaking out his hair. “Can I have that package I left you?”

There was a brief moment of silence before Medda broke into an earsplitting grin.

“Well, it’s about time someone took my advice around here! I’ll be right back.”

“What advice?” Jack asked, picking up his cap from where it’d fallen.

“What package?” Katherine countered. She had a sneaking suspicion of exactly what advice Medda was referring to.

“I’ve got it right here,” Medda interrupted, bustling back onto the stage with a small fabric pouch. “Now, you two come and see me as soon as you can, alright? I want to hear all about the proposal, and we’ll have a wedding party! Oh, it’ll be so ni-”

“Gotta go, bye Medda!” Jack practically shouted his farewell before grabbing Katherine’s hand and pulling her off the stage and out into the alley. Katherine was prepared to keep running, but they came to a sudden stop.

“Okay, so listen. I don’t want you to read too much into this,” Jack said, looking down at the small pouch. “But right after the strike, I gave these to Medda for safekeeping. They didn’t use to mean much, since I never really thought I’d need them. But after we met… I figured it would be better to have them somewhere safe.”

Jack unrolled the package to reveal two rings, one set with a small diamond. Katherine knew the appropriate response would be to compliment the ring, to slide it on her finger. But instead, she looked back up at Jack.

“That soon?” she couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. Of course she knew that the way she felt about Jack – well, she’d never felt that way about anyone else before. But she never thought about marriage. At least, not until Medda brought it up.

“From the moment you kissed me on that rooftop.” Jack shrugged. “You’re it for me, Ace.”

She tried to say something back, but there was a lump in the back of her throat stopping her. She used the momentary speechlessness to slide the ring on her finder. A perfect fit.

“They belonged to my parents. Definitely not an example we oughta follow, but maybe we can change the story for these rings.” It took a second for Jack to realize what he’d said. “You know, eventually. When we ain’t just pretending for your father. Or _if_ we ain’t just pretending for your father.”

Katherine laughed shakily.

“Come on,” she finally said. “We better get going.”

The World’s Circulation Gate was crowded at the end of a long day of selling. Katherine caught a peek at the headlines from their hiding place in a nearby alleyway – nothing too good, meaning that most of the newsies would be here to sell back papers. Good.

On a typical evening, her father would stroll out onto his balcony to oversee the buy-back process, creating a perfect chance for her and Jack to catch his attention. It might not be for another ten or fifteen minutes, but she still had butterflies in her stomach.

“Okay, so as soon as he comes outside, we’ll calmly walk over there and then…”

“We’ll wing it!” Jack finished, knowing that there was no telling how Pulitzer would react to seeing the two of them together. At this point, knowing that Jack and Katherine were both missing, he must have put two and two together. But theorizing and seeing were two very different experiences.

“Jack, if this doesn’t work…” Katherine paused, not wanting to think of the worst. “We’ll find each other. If for some reason I still get sent to that God-awful school, I’ll leave as soon as I’m eighteen, okay? And we’ll meet at the Newsboy house on October 13th, don’t you dare forget.”

“I won’t, but Katherine-”

“If my father sends you to prison, you call Bill Hearst, okay? He owes me so many favors, and I don’t know if we can trust Darcy. Bill will take care of you.”

“Katherine,” he interrupted, turning her face toward his. “It’s okay. This will work.”

She saw a figure emerge onto the balcony out of the corner of her eye.

“In case it doesn’t…” she leaned in for a quick kiss. “I love you.”

Before she had time to think about what she said, she stepped out into the street and started walking toward the circulation gate. Any thoughts she may have had about her statement were quickly squashed by her fear of her father and the apprehension that grew with every step toward the gate.

“Is that- Hey Jack!” She heard Race yell first, before a bunch of the boys were running up to them. Her father’s head also whipped toward them.

“I’m going to be sick,” she whispered. Jack shot her a concerned look.

_No, damn it. You are Katherine Pultizer-Plumber-Kelly. Whatever your last name is. You are Katherine, and you’re not going to let this man boss you around._

“Hey, fellas.” Jack easily greeted the boys who approached them first. “Listen, I got a long story that you are gonna love. But first we’s gotta talk to Pulitzer. And there’s a – uh – a decent chance that this conversation ain’t gonna be pretty. You mind stickin’ around to make sure nothing too ugly happens to me or Katherine here?”

“’Course not, Jack!” Race said. Romeo opened his mouth, and based on where he was looking, Katherine knew he was about to comment on a particularly shiny piece of jewelry on her left hand. But he was quickly shoved away by Specs, who winked at her.

“We’re here for whatever you need, Jack,” Specs said. “And you’ll explain everything later, I’m sure.”

“Thanks, fellas.”

Katherine spotted Crutchie and Les off to the side, both staring down at their hands, counting change. She could only imagine how their reactions to seeing Jack would throw off their plan.

_Please don’t look up, please don’t look up, please don’t-_

“Well,” a man said, approaching them. One of the Delanceys – Oscar, she would guess. “We must’ve knocked you up too bad. That’s the only way you’d dare show your face here.”

“We’ve gotta take you to Pulitzer,” Morris added. “He ain’t happy.”

“Oh, when is he ever happy?” Katherine said, her voice a lot steadier than she expected. Trying to maintain her bored demeanor, she sighed and looked up toward her father – or rather, where her father had been standing. He had left the balcony, most likely to go to his office, where he was in charge, no one else.

“Actually, why don’t you two bring my father out here? If he really is so eager to see me, I’m sure he’ll agree,” Katherine said sweetly, watching the Delanceys glance at the number of boys still hanging around the yard.

“I think that it doesn’t matter what you want, you’re coming to see Pulitzer,” Morris replied, grabbing her arm. “Come on.”

“Now, is that any way to treat a lady, Morris?” Jack said, reaching down to take Katherine’s other hand in his own. Lowering his voice, he leaned in so only Morris – and just barely, Katherine – could hear him. “Don’t think that just because I have this sling I couldn’t beat you in a fight.”

“All of those threats still stand, Kelly,” Morris spat before pushing Katherine away from him with enough force to send her sprawling on the pavement. Jack’s face paled.

“We’ll inform Pulitzer of your… request,” Oscar said, spinning on his heel. “But I wouldn’t count on him listening to anything you say.”

Katherine stood up, brushing the gravel off her hands. Yesterday, her father never would have let anyone physically harm her. Today, his own thugs were pushing her to the ground. At least she knew where they stood.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, helping her up.

“You ain’t gotta worry about Plumber,” Race said from across the courtyard. “She’s tough – tougher than most of these fellas, at least.”

“See now, Race there is a man who knows how to speak the truth,” Katherine called over to the group of boys, causing a bit of a scuffle, with Race right in the middle. Softly, she said to Jack, “I’m alright, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well would you look at that,” Jack said, letting out a low whistle. Pulitzer – flanked by the Delancey brothers, of course – was walking toward them. Katherine tried to remember the last time she’d seen her father out at the distribution gate. Usually, he entered through the front of the building, avoiding any sight of the boys who actually sold his paper.

“Hello, Katherine,” he said as he approached, not even sparing a glance toward the boy next to her. As if he didn’t know what Jack had been through – as if he hadn’t been the one to cause it. How awful of a person was her father, really, this entire time, without her knowing?

“Listen, Mr. Pulitzer, I just wanted to say no hard feelings, alright?” Jack said casually, stretching out his free hand.

_I hope he knows what he’s doing. I guess this is what he meant by winging it._

“Of course not, the strike was settled weeks ago,” Pulitzer said, faking a furrowed brow. Katherine could feel her fist clenching tighter – too tightly, actually, she was probably hurting herself.

“I thought so too, until you locked me in a basement and let your goons beat me halfway to death,” Jack replied, sparking a rumble of muttering from the boys across the lot. “But hey, don’t worry. Like I said, no hard feelings. I’m not going to the cops or anything.”

“Well, that is the first smart decision you’ve made since I met you,” Pulitzer declared. “No police officer is going to believe you, because your story is so obviously false. Without the strike, why on earth would I possibly do something so awful?”

“Me!” Katherine interrupted, unable to contain herself anymore. “Look, you were mad about the strike, and the last thing you wanted was for me to be associated with Jack, at all. ‘Too bad you’ve no family, but you can’t have mine,’ remember?”

“Katherine, this boy is clearly making up stories to convince you that I’m some sort of evil villain,” her father replied. “You know me. We’re cut from the same cloth, remember? I’m even willing to forgive the consequences of your little… escapade over the last few hours. You can stay with me, write for the Sun. I won’t force you to go to St. Mary’s, if you come back now.”

“Home isn’t with you anymore!” she replied. “Home isn’t worrying that your father kidnapped your friends, or that if you do something he doesn’t like, he’ll just get rid of you and send you away. Home is love and acceptance and family. Not you.”

His face hardened, and the impact of what Katherine said hit her. After everything that happened, she didn’t expect to have a good relationship with her father. But she also didn’t expect to completely cut him out of her life.

“Katherine Elizabeth Pultizer, you seem to forget that you’re still only seventeen,” he said lowly, the angry tone coming back to his voice. “You don’t get to make your own decisions. Legally, a seventeen year old unmarried _girl_ has no power.”

“You’re right,” she replied. “But…”

After this announcement, there was no going back. Across the lot, the boys stared at her, eyes wide. They must have known that her father was awful, but nothing could have prepared them for how despicable he truly was. She wasn’t even really prepared, and she lived with him her entire life. But not anymore. She held up her left hand.

“I’m not a seventeen year old unmarried _girl_ anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things - 
> 
> First, I'm desperately trying to finish this within the next week, because I have a new story idea that I want to write for NaNoWriMo, but I won't let myself start until after this one is done! So expect frequent, unedited chapters. Both a blessing and a curse. 
> 
> Second, I originally had this planned to be 18 chapters, but this one got a little too long for my liking. So there will be 19 chapters, and potentially an epilogue. Get excited - we're almost to the end! 
> 
> Finally, my Tumblr is super inactive because school and jobs and all that other jazz. However, if you want to send me prompts or just scream about Newsies with me, I'm checking my inbox every so often. I'm @GraceFC. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pulitzer hadn’t said a single word in the thirty seconds since her announcement. The boys had tried to lighten the mood by wolf-whistling and cracking a few jokes, but they’d fallen flat, and it was back to pin-drop quiet.

_I’m about to be carted off to jail, or locked away in a room, or something. He won’t allow this._

“You’ve made your choices, now you have to live with them,” he finally said, straight-faced. “But as I made clear: your choices no longer make you welcome in my house. You’re no longer a part of this family.”

“Luckily, she has a new family now,” Jack replied.

Katherine gratefully leaned in to the arm that he put around her. Even though this was fake, he was right. She did have a new family now – the newsboys, and Medda, and Jack. It wasn’t perfect, and it certainly wasn’t what she’d known, but it was a new family. Her new family.

“Your mother would be disappointed in you,” Pulitzer replied quietly, before turning on his heel and retreating into the building.

The words hit Katherine like ice. Her mother was a kind, gracious woman, not a hardened, weary man like her father. Would she really disapprove of her daughter standing up for what she believes in? And if she did, did that mean that Katherine was more like her father?

“Hey,” Jack said, shaking her slightly. “He was just trying to hurt you the same way you hurt him, yeah? I’m sure it’s not true.”

She smiled slightly, grateful for the comfort – as empty as it was. Jack didn’t know her mother. Still, they had a crowd of newsboys sprinting their way. She had other things to think about.

“Wow, you really stuck it to Pulitzer – again!” Elmer said, the first to get to the two of them.

“Ain’t ya supposed to ask the father before you marry the girl, Jack?”

“Yeah, like I’m about to take romantic advice from you, _Romeo_ ,” he retorted, an easy grin on his face. Katherine could see – he was practically glowing with happiness. Back with the boys – with their family.

“So Jack,” Albert said, lingering at the back of the group. “Where ya been?”

Katherine squeezed Jack’s hand, trying to remind him that not all of the boys had been so supportive of their attempts to find him. But if Jack received the message, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Let’s just say that Pulitzer and the Delanceys ain’t the peaches they pretended to be at the end of the strike,” he replied, gesturing slightly to the sling. “I’ve been payin’ the price. Woulda been for a lot longer, had Katherine here not found me.”

Albert flushed, looking down at the ground. A few of the other boys scuffed their toes against the ground, embarrassed.

“But luckily she came through,” he continued, ignoring their reactions. “And I coulda been hurt a lot worse.”

“It’s good to have you back, Jack,” Crutchie said. He leaned in for a hug. “We missed you lots.”

“I missed you too, fellas,” Jack replied. Katherine could see the tears in his eyes, but chose not to comment.

“Hey, ain’t you got papes to sell?” called a boy from the back of the group. “Get out there!”

A few of the boys grumbled good-naturedly, but slung their messenger bags over their shoulders, giving handshakes and nods to Jack on their way out. Only a few boys were left after the crowd cleared – Crutchie, Les – _of course, Les is here_ – and… Davey?

“We figured we should be back for the return of our fearless leader,” Davey said, but he barely got the sentence out before Les was barreling forward.

“Jack!” he ran straight into the taller boy.

“Hey, fella,” Jack greeted. “Why ain’t you in school?”

“I had to give you your present!” Les handed him a freshly printed copy of his fake newspaper letter, smooth and clean. It looked just as he’d shown Katherine, but with typed paragraphs, where she assumed the misspellings had been corrected.

“Wow, Les,” Jack commented, obviously impressed. “This is great! How’d you do it?”

“Katherine’s friend, Mr. Darcy, brought it over this morning!”

Jack glanced at her quickly. If Darcy had been in on everything, why would he still come through to help Les?

“He printed it himself,” Les continued, oblivious to any nonverbal conversations. “He’d be a way better newspaper owner than Mr. Pultizer.” Les stopped for a minute, as if he realized what he said. “Um, no offense Katherine.”

She smiled to reassure him.

“Look, there’s even pictures!”

_Did I judge Darcy too quickly? I may have been a little harsh, but Jack was literally in Darcy’s home. How on earth could that be, without him knowing about it?_

_But if he did know, why would he have taken me down there to find him? Was he tired of the charade? Did he know it was wrong and want it to stop? And if he did – is that worth forgiving? The fact that he finally caved?_

“I think this might answer some of your questions,” Davey said, handing her an envelope. “But it doesn’t answer any of mine. Where was he?”

Katherine could hear Jack commenting on Les’s letter in the background – he was so good with kids. How anyone – especially her father – could hurt such a good person, she would never know.

“My father – he was angry,” she started, willing herself not to cry. The past two days had been too long. “He took Jack, put him in Darcy’s basement. I found him totally by chance, I never would have found him without Les’s project.”

Crutchie slowly walked over.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said sheepishly. “Is Jack okay?”

“I called a doctor, he’s really supposed to rest, but I don’t think I could ever make Jack take a break. It was all I could do to keep him from selling papers today.”

“But why would Pulitzer do that? The strike was settled, you two were happy-” Davey trailed off. “That’s it, isn’t it? Your father would never let you be with Jack.”

“Apparently not,” she replied, her voice only shaking half as much as she thought it would.

“For what it’s worth, I think Darcy seems like a good person. He really made Les’s day, and he told us that we would probably see Jack soon. I hope that letter answers some of your questions.”

Davey wandered back over to Les, to admire his paper some more, but Crutchie stayed nearby.

_Dear Katherine,_

_I can’t imagine how awful these past few days have been for you. I hope to assure you that I had no involvement in any of the events surrounding Jack’s disappearance or the cruelty he suffered. However, I understand if you do not believe me._

_The room that Jack was being kept in has long been used as storage for my family – full of my mother’s dusty old antiques and boring documents. I suppose I should have thought something may be wrong when my mother started piling rugs all over our house, but she simply assured me that they had come back into fashion. I thought nothing of it._

_If there is anything at all I can do to help Jack heal, please let me know. I promise that I will not speak anything of this to anyone, not even our fathers. While you work to help Jack recover, I do hope that you’ll also think of yourself during this time. This must have been a very traumatic event for you, and I hope that you’ll take some time to heal as well._

_Yours truly,_

_Darcy Reid_

Katherine folded the letter back up.

“I still don’t know if Darcy can be trusted,” she told Crutchie, who was very politely attempting not to eavesdrop on the letter. “But he does seem apologetic and very genuine. I suppose it will take some time.”

“I know he’s your friend,” Crutchie said. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Thank you,” she replied gratefully. “But this really isn’t about me.”

“Are you kidding me? You left your whole family, everything you knew, and maybe even your best friend. This is about you as much as it is about Jack or anyone else. And you gotta take time to get better, too, Plumbs,” Crutchie said. “Although… I suppose that name’s not gonna work for you anymore.”

“Um…” she looked down at her left hand. “It’s not real. I mean, it is!” she hastened, seeing Crutchie’s alarm. “I love Jack, and I’m so happy he’s back. But we needed a way to make sure that my father couldn’t punish me. And this was the best way. But we’re not really married.”

Crutchie grinned slowly.

“Well, aren’t you two just crafty.”

“Ace! Crutchie! Get over here,” Jack called. Crutchie offered out his free arm, and she took it.

“We better be off to school. If we miss any more, they’ll call our parents, and then we’ll never see you all again,” Davey said seriously. “It’s good to see you again, Jack. And Katherine – good job. You’re the best investigative reporter in the city, and anyone who tells you otherwise isn’t worth the dirt under your fingernail.”

“Um… thanks, I think,” she replied, smiling.

“Bye, Jack!” Les called as Davey dragged him out the gate. Jack waved in response.

“Now come here,” he said, pulling Crutchie into a hug. “I missed you so much.”

“Just promise that next time you get kidnapped and dragged into a basement, you’ll bring me with you,” he said, muffled by Jack’s shoulder. Katherine couldn’t help but laugh.

“No guarantees,” Jack joked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so some good news: this is DONE! I wrote the epilogue tonight, and I'll probably post it tomorrow. Everybody say thanks to NaNoWriMo for making me write like crazy! 
> 
> Some more good news: I'm working on another Newsies fic! TBD on when that will start being posted, but I'll let you know when it is gonna happen. It's going to be a modern AU, so something different! Also, it will include both of our favorite pairs - you know I'm talking about some Sprace. :) 
> 
> Be sure to let me know what you think of the ending in the comments!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you ready, Katherine?” Medda asked, straightening out one more wrinkle in her dress. Sniper smiled at her timidly.
> 
> “Absolutely,” she replied.

Three Years Later

            “No, no, no!” Katherine could hear Les shouting outside the door. “Jack, get back in your room.”

            “I only needs to see her for a minute,” he replied. She could hear signs of a struggle, but no one entered the room. It was strange – the last time she’d been apart from Jack for this long was – well, she didn’t need to remember that on today, of all days.

            “Jack Frances Kelly, if you so much as turn that doorknob, I will use your behind as my next set piece,” Medda called, fussing over Katherine’s dress. “And don’t you think I’m kidding around, I will need a new set piece with you gone!”

            “Fine, Miss Medda,” Jack replied back. Slightly muffled, a few seconds later, Katherine could hear him say, “How does she know my middle name?”

            Looking down at her dress, Katherine smiled. This was a day that she’d been imagining since she was little. And sure, the way that she’d imagined it was much different – with her cousins fussing over her instead of Medda, calling her Katie and gushing over what a fine gentleman waited on the other side of the doors. She glanced down at the ring she’d been given so long ago. While it would have worked for today, they’d decided to get new ones. Of course, they’d keep the old ones, too. But new rings symbolized their new life, together.

            It was a Wednesday evening. A Sunday would have been more traditional, but what about Jack and Katherine had ever been traditional? Besides, they didn’t have enough money to rent out a chapel, so the day off for the theatres was perfect. And where better to hold the ceremony than Medda’s where they met? A weekday wasn’t ideal, what with Les still in school. And Crutchie had to miss his evening classes, but they all agreed that this was the best solution.

            When it came to groomsmen, Jack had limitless options. Any of the newsies, any of his new friends at work, or even Bill and Darcy. But Katherine, well, saying that her options were limited was an understatement. So Medda and Sniper it was, dressed in the most conservative costumes they could find at the theatre.

            So much had happened in three years, but Jack had stayed true to his promise – they were a partnership. Both at the Sun, where he illustrated her weekly column, in addition to some of her news articles, and at home, where they took in the boys when they were in trouble, and helped at the lodge whenever they could.

            The Sun had printed their announcement, even though she had asked her friends to keep the ceremony quiet. No one knew their secret – the story of their false marriage, years ago, or even her real last name.

            She wondered if her father had seen it. After all, he did scour the other papers for scoops on new stories. But it was unlikely that he’d looked at the engagement section – and even if he had, it was less likely that he cared. She found herself surprised that she didn’t care if he knew, either.

            “Are you ready, Katherine?” Medda asked, straightening out one more wrinkle in her dress. Sniper smiled at her timidly.

            “Absolutely.”


End file.
